


The Wolf In The Ring

by honeycakes



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gladiators, M/M, Roman Empire AU, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-06
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-10-28 19:38:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 30,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10838019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeycakes/pseuds/honeycakes
Summary: I hadn't planned on doing two chapters today, but here we are!Also, confession time: 100% of everything I know about Ancient Rome comes from this food/history show called The Supersizers, which is amazing and definitely worth looking up, but it does mean that I am almost certainly not being historically accurate. My bad, friends.And once again, this story is based on the wonderful synopsis created by asktheboywholived! If you aren't following their blog, I am amazed, and you should get on it.http://asktheboywholived.tumblr.com/post/160361366017/wolfstar-au-synopsis-the-empiremoreLet me know what you think!





	1. Chapter 1

The sun was maddeningly hot, beating down insistently from the highest point in the sky. It could not be dissuaded, and would not be diverted from roasting the noble heads of the House of Black. Under the stretched white linen awning, Sirius Black was in an atrocious mood, made all the darker from the bright light and noise surrounding him. Under his thick, dark curls, his head was aching, and he longed to return to his bed. That his mother had not stopped nagging him since she retrieved him from the bedchambers a particularly delicious young suitor the night before was doing little to improve his mental state.

"You would bring shame upon all our heads," Walburga hissed from the seat behind her son. "To trade your birthright for a dalliance with that-"  
"No need to aggrandize the situation, mother," Sirius interrupted, bored and irritated. "I would trade my birthright for a bunch of flowers down at the market place." He smirked as he felt his mother bristle behind him.  
"You exhaust me, boy. You take everything as a joke."  
"Not true, mother, take me to the market now, let me show you how earnest I am."

There was a snort from somewhere to Sirius's right. He glanced over, and caught the eye of his favourite cousin. Andromeda grinned at him, and he responded with a friendly roll of his eyes. Walburga struck him with her fan, and began hissing again.

"You don't just risk the reputation of your family, boy. You bring shame to your fair cousin." Sirius scowled, and looked past Andromeda to her older sister. Bellatrix sat tall and stiff upon her seat, elegant in her stola of pale green silk. A dark ringlet had escaped her intricately piled plaits, not that she seemed to notice; her eyes, rimmed with thick kohl, were trained on the ring below with a sort of hunger which made Sirius distinctly uncomfortable. He shifted in his seat and turned his eyes back to the crowd. 

"The marriage to your cousin has been arranged since you were children. You are spoken for, you are practically married already. I do wish that you would begin the preparations. The eyes of Rome are upon us. The working class are restless, the beasts have been rising against us. We need this wedding, Sirius. We need to reestablish that we are in command, in control. We need an heir." Sirius's lip curled.  
"I would prefer to marry someone better suited to me, mother," he said. "Someone more gentle, kind, intelligent- a Minotaur, perhaps." He received another thwap from his mother's fan, and spun around to face her.  
"Mother, I have made it abundantly clear that I have no desire to marry Bellatrix. She has no interest in me, and, as we have established, my fair cousin far from being my type." Walburga scoffed.  
"I fail to see what THAT matters. Do you suppose that your father was my type? That I was his? No. But we had obligations, and we understood our place." She leaned forward, her face dark with intent. 

"You will marry Bellatrix. You will share her bed. You will produce an heir. The Black line will continue, strong, for millennia to come. And if you try to resist the path that I have chosen for you... Well. It may be said that I am not known for my kindness, Sirius. You will comply, or you will be disposed of." A chill rose up Sirius's spine. He stared at his mother, appalled. He knew that there was no risk of his being publicly disowned, such a scandal would bring far more shame to the family name than all of his nighttime proclivities. But, he knew, to disown would not be his mother's style. She tended to prefer a short and bloody severance of ties. He set his teeth, and turned a look of violent dislike at his mother. She narrowed her eyes at him, and sat back, smoothing a hand over her hair. A small, self-satisfied smile settled on her lips. Sirius turned back to the crowd once again, scowling, deep in thought. He cast a glance back to Bellatrix, who seemed unaware that her fate was being nailed down mere seats away. He squinted at her pale skin, long lashes, strong jaw. She had an undeniable beauty, but the thought of going to bed with her sent a wave of nausea through Sirius, and left a bad taste in his mouth. He chewed his tongue, deep in thought. A plan was forming. 

A small, bald-headed man had entered the ring below. He cried greetings and compliments up to the nobility under the awning, brought forth a tibia, and began to play a brief set before the main event. A slow smile spread over Sirius's face as the sweet music filled the arena, and he turned back to face his mother. Walburga looked down at her son, smiling serenely up at her, and frowned at him, immediately suspicious.

"Alright, mother," said Sirius. "I will make this deal with you. I will marry Bellatrix. I will take her hand and say my vows, and I will smile through it all, if it pleases you. I will take to her bed once a year until she bears me a son. But, in return-" he paused, relishing in the look of dread on his mother's face.  
"-you will turn a blind eye to whomever else I choose to share my bed with. I will take a lover, mother, any Roman citizen that I desire. My lover will have a set of rooms attached to mine, so that I may access him whenever I like. I will dress him in the finest silks, which you will pay for, and feed him the best that Rome has to offer, which you will pay for. You will allow us to live as we see fit." He sat back, smug, and waited. Walburga sneered at her son, a look of loathing in her eyes, but, for all her disgust, she did appear to consider it. Below, the small man had finished his song. The audience gave a brief, but favourable response, and the man bowed low. He called out to the eager crowd, announcing the fight which had been so fiercely anticipated. The crowd roared with excitement, but under the awning, Sirius stared at his mother and heard none of it. At last, she turned back to her son.

"I will allow it," she said at last. "On the condition that you marry Bellatrix and further our lineage, I will allow you to- to entertain the companion of your choice. And I will support you, financially, in you endeavors." She glared at him. "But know that is where my support ends. I am not pleased, Sirius. And if word of this reaches the public ear, so help me, I will cut you off in every sense of the word."

Sirius gave as deep a bow as his seated position would allow, and turned back to the arena, drinking in the ecstatic cries of the crowd, a complacent smile on his lips. Already he was scanning the crowd, admiring his options with a dogged hunger. His wandering eye landed on a fair head some seven rows below him. But Lucius had always been much more the taste of Narcissa, his younger cousin. Looking onward, he spotted the red heads of Fabian and Gideon, down in the very first row, closest to the action. He knew the twins were not of his persuasion, but gleefully imagined his dear mother's reaction to the two of them in his bed. Walburga held the old world belief that twins were inherently evil and not to be trusted, to say nothing of the fact that the Prewett name, once noble, had been dragged so thoroughly through the mud that they may as well have been peasants. As he continued to study the audience, a loud horn sounded, and as one, the audience surged forward, trying to get a better look at the arena. There were catcalls and hisses, almost drowning out the cheers, and Sirius, distracted, turned to watch the werewolves enter the ring.

If he had looked a moment later, he might have missed it. It was hardly noteworthy as it was. But this had been the fifth werewolf battle in as many weeks, and Sirius could have easily told anyone exactly what would happen. The doors on either side of the arena would open, and two werewolves would enter. They would edge around each other, growling, emaciated from the month of poor treatment, and within moments, the first strike would come. The fight was meant to rage on for one hour; they usually took no less than fifteen minutes, before one werewolf would rip the throat from his enemy. A horn would blow, the victor would be given a moment to recover, and then a new fighter would enter the ring. There would be three battles in one day, after which the victor would be made to eat the hearts of those who had lost, and the audience would go home. It had been thrilling at first, but now, Sirus found it simply revolting. So it came as some surprise when, rather than skulking in and skirting around the edges of the ring, one of the contestants came walking in, hesitant but upright. His competition lurched around him in a wide circle, but the werewolf still stood tall. Then, he removed his armband, which marked him as a slave, a beast, and a fighter. He let it fall onto the dirt. Sirius leaned forward to see more clearly, as did much of the audience. There was a shout of "CRUCIO" from somewhere below, and the werewolf crumpled, writhing in pain, which is when his competition lunged. 

The fight ought to have ended then. It should have ended the moment the werewolf dropped his cuff, a clear statement of a fighter's unwillingness to engage. A wolf had never made such a display, well in the knowledge that refusing to fight meant their own slaughter. But somehow, the wolf rolled clear of the attack, and what followed was an hour of the most skilled defensive movement that Sirius had ever seen. The wolf moved slowly, warily, but every strike he deflected with skill. Snapping teeth closed on nothing but air; claws scrabbled uselessly where the fighter had once been. The competition was wearing himself out, losing focus, getting frustrated, but still the passive werewolf did not attack. Even the crowds were getting restless now, shouting, egging the wolves on, begging for SOME kind of action, until at last someone hurled a rock into the ring. It hit the wolf on the shoulder, and he whirled around, distracted, giving his competitor an opening. The crowd gasped and cheered as the werewolf arched in pain, claws digging deep into his back. Sirius sat back, ready to shield his eyes for the bloodshed, but, to his dismay, none came. The werewolf disentangled himself from the vicious claws, rolled out of the way, and began to speak, holding his hands out in front of him. Sirius, seated with his family away from the spraying blood, was too far away to hear what the werewolf was saying. But his competitor seemed to slow, tilting his head from side to side, listening. The audience roared its disapproval; this was not what they had come for, this was not what they wanted! But a moment later, a horn sounded, and the two fighters stepped back into the shadows. The first hour, the first competition, was done. The small man in his toga came slowly into the ring, wand held tightly in his hand, and turned to face the crowd.

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, IT SEEMS WE HAVE A DRAW! THE FIGHT WILL RECONVENE-" But he was cut off. The werewolf, who, through all the fight had been gentle, passive, unwilling to draw blood, now leapt forward, claws extended. He moved faster than any creature who had been deprived of food and water for so long ought to have been capable of. Wizards came streaming into the arena, but it was too late; the werewolf had wrapped his claws around the throat of the small man and taken his wand in one smooth motion. He was backing away toward the door he had entered from, holding the man captive, and pointing his wand at each of the wizards in turn. But, alas, the odds were against him. A wizard raised his wand, and the wolf shot a spell toward him, knocking him down where he stood, and suddenly there was magic flashing through the air, and the wizards rushed the wolf. When the dust had settled, the werewolf had been subdued. The crowd roared, shrieking suggestions.

"KILL HIM!"  
"SKIN HIM!"  
"MAKE HIM PAY!"

A small wizard came rocketing up the steps toward the Blacks, breathing heavily, and threw himself down at Walburga's feet.

"My lady, what would you like us to do with the mangy beast?"

Walburga rose to her feet, drawing her wand, ready to declare sentence, but Sirius, too, bounded up from his seat.

"Mother," he said. Walburga looked at him with wide, angry eyes. Sirius grinned, feeling his blood hot under his skin.  
"I choose him."


	2. Chapter 2

Spells and curses flashed through the air with such speed that the world seemed to blur before Remus's eyes. He raised the strange wand, hand reacting faster than his mind, and sent curses of his own flying desperately toward the wall of advancing flesh. Dirt was flying, he couldn't see. Panicking, he threw the wizard he had taken captive to the ground, spun on his heel, and aimed for where he knew the door out to be. He was quickly overtaken; four wizards slammed into him at once. He fought against them as best he could, but, outnumbered, he soon gave in and allowed them to push him down. He gave a grunt of pain as they ground his face into the dirt and pulled his arms up high. Someone was kneeling on his back, holding him down. The deep cuts along his back and side were burning, and he could feel blood trickling down his temple. Dust stuck in his throat and filled his lungs, making it impossible to breathe. Angry tears filled his eyes. All he had fought for, all he had tried to do, and still it ended like this, suffocated under the weight of his oppressors. He was faintly aware of the voices around him shouting, but black spots began to slide across his vision, and he was finding it hard to pay attention.

Very suddenly, Remus was released. His arms fell heavily to the ground, and for what felt like hours, he lay there, face-down, trying hard to steady his breathing. He knew what was coming. He had been there when Romulus was cut down. He could still see it all in his mind's eye, the fire casting the whole world in wavering orange light, and Romulus, head held high, arms held down by the wizards who had found their hideaway. They had cut his head from his shoulders. The rush of blood had nearly been enough to quell the fire, and the night had filled with the howls of the wolves. Remus coughed up a mouthful of mud, and pushed himself up onto his knees. He would meet death as his friend had; standing tall, strong, unafraid. 

Wizards stood around him in a a wide arch, all pointing their wands at him, expressions of loathing and fear on their faces. There was movement on the opposite side of the arena. Remus watched as the group descended the stone steps, a select few who appeared to be nobility, and those who served them, who all continued to fan them and shade them as they walked. The group approached, and the wall of wizards parted to let them pass. Remus gazed at them, taking stock. In the centre of the group stood a tall, slender woman, some years older than himself. She stood ramrod straight, her shoulders tense, and Remus thought that her lined face would be beautiful under all its thick, dark hair, were it not for the fact that she was staring down her nose at him with disgust. He had never seen such hatred in anyone before. His eyes moved to another female, also tall, also dark. She did not look to loathe him; rather, she looked down at him with complete impassivity. Somehow, this filled Remus with more fear than the older woman had. This woman, he sensed, could squash him easily, without a care in the world, as if he were no more than a beetle on the ground. He met her gaze and saw cruelty in her dark eyes. He looked away. He turned to examine the young man, and he froze. 

This one stood a few inches taller than the others, and he shared their colouring. His figure was long and lean, but it was the face that held Remus's attention. Smooth, pale skin, which seemed to glow in the sun, and gave stark contrast to the strong brows, and dark curls. His eyes were the soft green of springtime, framed by long lashes, and they were staring down at Remus with a heat that he could not interpret. There was an intensity in this young man which radiated like a string that had just been plucked. But there was no trace of fear or dislike in his stance or his gaze, and that surprised Remus more than anything else. He seemed to be drinking in the sight of Remus just as Remus drank in the sight of him. The older woman cleared her throat, drawing Remus's attention back to her. 

"Get up," she said. Remus hesitated, but slowly, warily, pushed himself up to standing. He was now more aware of the blood seeping down his side, into his subligaculum. His skin was itching with dirt and sweat, and he found himself hoping that they would kill him soon, if only to end this discomfort. He felt the languorous gaze of the young man tracing his frame, but kept his eyes on the woman. She was seething.  
"You!" she barked at one of the wizards. "You will bind him, and you will bring him." Remus furrowed his brow. Surely, this was the place to kill him, where the crowds could enjoy the show. He had no time to question it, the wizards spat their spells, and thin ropes burst forth from their wands. A moment later he was being dragged from the amphitheatre by the wizards, led by the noble family, much to the frothing rage of the audience, who groaned and shouted and demanded his head. When they reached the hill beyond the arena, the lord and ladies apparated away with a snap that made Remus flinch. His guards cast a dark look back at him, then carried on, dragging him to meet his fate. 

They walked through the streets for hours through the great city and then further on, to the point where the cobbled roads became dirt, and the dirt became grass. Remus had been bound in thick chains in a dark cellar with eighteen other wolves for weeks, and enjoyed the warm sun, the cool breeze, the feeling of thick grass under his bare feet. He wondered about this treatment as they passed a field of wild flowers cut by a winding stream, and it dawned on him that this was likely meant to be some cruel form of punishment, showing him the beauty of the earth that they would soon deprive him of. Over the next hill, they reached their destination, though the sight of it did little to ease his confusion. 

As a boy, before he had received his bite, Remus had lived in a bustling little town with rows of small houses and criss-crossing laundry lines and the occasional shed dedicated to chickens or cows out on the edges of a family's property. The house before him could have easily covered the entirety of that town. It sprawled across the grass, a magnificent stone structure, surrounded by lush gardens. Remus had never seen so magnificent a structure as the one he was now being dragged toward, and the sight of it filled him with a dreadful suspicion. They went up a stone walk-way with cypress trees growing tall on either side. The walk ended at the impressive entrance-way, which had a tall, green door between two tall columns that were heavy with climbing ivy and small white flowers. A wizard rapped smartly on the door, which opened slowly after a moment, and Remus was pushed into the atrium. He had a moment to take in the exquisite mosaic floor, all turquoise and silver, and the large pool that was open to the sky, before the young man stepped out before him. 

Remus stared at him, perturbed. He lifted his chin defiantly, though the young man only smirked. His eyes traveled up Remus's body brazenly, and Remus felt himself flush. The young man licked his lips.

"What is your name, wolf?" he asked. Remus blinked. None of the wizards he had encountered since his capture had spoken to him, much less asked his name. He scowled.  
"Remus Lupin," he said. The young man tilted his head.  
"Remus Lupin," he repeated, rolling the name on his tongue as though he were tasting it. Remus became suddenly aware of the blood thudding through his veins. The young man grinned as though he could hear it, and Remus tensed up.  
"Well, Remus Lupin. You're bleeding all over the mosaic," said the young man, his voice light and teasing. Remus narrowed his eyes at him, then looked down. Indeed, there were droplets of blood around his feet, standing out against the cool blues and greens of the floor. He slowly lifted his eyes back to the man, and, maintaining eye contact, shook himself vigorously, sending blood and sweat splattering around him. He raised a sardonic brow at the the young man, openly challenging him. But he just smiled in return, and clasped his hands behind his back. He looked delighted, much to Remus's surprise.

"Alright, let him go," he said to the wizards. They shifted about uncomfortably, shooting looks at one another.  
"With all due respect, my lord, he may attack you," said the one with a rope around Remus's neck. The young man scowled at the wizard.  
"It is entirely possible that he will. It is also possible that I will attack you if you do not obey me," he replied, sounding wholly unconcerned. "Now release him, and then see yourselves out."

Much to his bemusement, Remus felt the ropes fall away from his skin. There was a scuffling as the other wizards left, and the dull thud of the door shutting behind them. Remus stood alone with the young wizard. He was wary of the man, who was still staring at him, as though he expected something to happen. When nothing did, he took a slow step forward, hands still clasped behind his back. He walked around Remus in a slow circle, which made Remus's hackles rise, but, considering that the young man had no weapons, he remained still. The young man stood facing him again, close enough that Remus could smell the frankincense mingling with sweat on his skin. The man smiled.

"You're filthy," he murmured, as though chastising a child. Remus frowned.  
"Apologies, my lord," he said. "I wasn't expecting to be received into society today." His words were met with a short laugh and another slow, warm glance.  
"Follow me, we'll clean you up." 

The young man turned on his heel and strode off through the atrium. Remus hesitated, confusion turning into frustration. But he allowed his curiosity to propel him after the man, passing doors, fountains, even a small indoor garden. They arrived in a bathing room, which had clearly been prepared for Remus. Stone steps led down into a deep pool of hot water. Sprigs of rosemary and lavender floated on the surface of the oiled water, sweetly scenting the steam. There was a low stone bench along the back wall, which was laden with thick cloths, a linen tunic, and rolls of bandages. There were lit torches in heavy iron brackets on the wall, filling the room with the same comforting smell of frankincense. Remus could only stare, his mouth agape. He had never seen such luxury in his life. 

The young man cleared his throat. He was still smiling at him, now even moreso in face of Remus's clear shock.

"Well, don't just stand there," he said, and he shut the door to the bathing room, latching it with a decisive click.

Remus moved quickly. In a moment, he had grabbed the man, and pushed him hard into the door. Remus leaned all his weight against him, trapping him there, and pressed a calloused hand to his throat, scraping his claws against that soft shoulder. His mouth twisted in satisfaction at the way the lad's eyes widened in surprise. Those eyes met Remus's, and he was astonished to find that he was being gazed at with such intense heat that it made his skin itch. Remus felt the soft groan in the man's throat as much as he heard it, and the sensation sent a shock through his body, rooting low in his stomach.

"Who are you?" he growled, heady with the warmth of the man. His question was meant with a slow smile.  
"Sirius Black," the man replied.  
"Sirius Black," Remus repeated, stunned by the way the young man responded to his voice. Sirius smirked, and brought a hand up to the one at his throat. He trailed his nails over Remus's wrist lazily.  
"Feel free to wear it out," he murmured, and pushed gently away from the wall so that his body pressed back against Remus.

Remus leapt back, dismayed, but Sirius seemed to feel no shame about his display. Indeed, he smiled, and shot Remus a sly wink. Remus licked his lips, and looked away, amazed by the fires burning in his own skin. 

"The room next to this is mine. I'll be waiting there for you when you've finished," said Sirius, and he brushed Remus's dirty brown hair off of his forehead, forcing the young werewolf to look back up at him. "Let me know if you need anything" And, with another wink, Sirius sauntered out of the bathing room, leaving Remus alone with his thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hadn't planned on doing two chapters today, but here we are! 
> 
> Also, confession time: 100% of everything I know about Ancient Rome comes from this food/history show called The Supersizers, which is amazing and definitely worth looking up, but it does mean that I am almost certainly not being historically accurate. My bad, friends.
> 
> And once again, this story is based on the wonderful synopsis created by asktheboywholived! If you aren't following their blog, I am amazed, and you should get on it.
> 
> http://asktheboywholived.tumblr.com/post/160361366017/wolfstar-au-synopsis-the-empiremore
> 
> Let me know what you think!


	3. Chapter 3

Sirius leaned against the closed door to the bathing room and closed his eyes, listening hard. He could just make out the deep, laboured breathing from the wolf on the other side of the wall. After a moment, the breathing slowed, and Sirius could hear the rustle of fabric shifting against flesh, landing in a pile on the stone, and then- Yes, the wolf was climbing down into the bath. Sirius heard a soft moan of pleasure as the body settled into the water The sound made his heart beat faster, and, for a moment, his hand tightened on the door handle...

Sirius shook himself, pushed away from the door, and moved down the corridor to his bedchamber. He frowned as he entered the room, deep in thought. He had chosen the wolf. He had looked down into the arena, he had seen the strong, steady figure moving through the sunlight, unmistakably predatory. He had seen the wolf outsmart the wizards, seen flashing claws, and he had felt the pull in his stomach. The wolf had impressed him. The wolf had enticed him. And, best of all, choosing the wolf had thoroughly infuriated his mother. He grinned at the memory of her face twisting in rage, two spots of colour high on her cheeks, spittle flying from her mouth. He had never seen the woman so completely undone. When they had returned to the Black family manse, she had ordered two servants to prepare a set of rooms attached to those of her eldest son. Then, not even sparing Sirius a glance, she had all but banished him from her sight, and retired to her own rooms to recover from the day. 

Sirius chuckled as he began unwinding his toga, the dark silk sliding onto the stone floor in a puddle. He slid his wand from the leather straps which bound it to his arm, and waved it absentmindedly. As the silk refolded itself, Sirius moved to his bed, pulling off his tunic. He had counted on finding this wolf interesting. He had counted on his mother's rage. He had not counted on the wave of rush that had hit him when the wolf had closed his claws around his throat. Sirius turned to the stand in the corner, peering at himself in the mirror. With a wave of his wand the small basin filled itself with cool, lightly scented water. He splashed some into his face, and sighed as he felt some of the dust lift from his skin. Sirius scrubbed the heat and the sweat from his skin with a stretch of clean linen and felt his mind relax. The wolf had surprised him, that was all, he was still in control-

Sirius paused. He looked in the mirror. 

"Remus," he murmured. "His name is Remus." His voice echoed softly through the room. It sent a shiver down his spine. With a shake of his head, he cleared the water from the basin, and began to dress.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☾ ☆ ☆ ☆

Remus scrubbed until he was pink and raw all over. The water felt delicious against his skin, refreshing after the months he had spent on the run with the wolves, and the weeks he had spent in the cellar. It was the first proper bath he'd had in- Well. He couldn't remember now if he had ever had a proper bath. 

When he was satisfied that he was finally, totally clean, he rose from the tub. The oils that had coated the surface of the water clung to him, leaving him soft and slippery. Standing on the cool stone floor, he took stock of his wounds. The fresh, deep claw marks had already started to heal. They would almost certainly leave scars, but scars had become commonplace to Remus, and he doubted he'd even notice them, given a few months. There was a fresh scrape along his temple, and another on the line of his cheek. A number of thin scratches lined his legs. The chains had left deep grooves on his wrists and ankles. Remus sighed, rubbing at his wrists, and looked around the room. There was little in the way of furniture aside from the bench, but there was a tall open cabinet against the wall. He crossed to it, and was pleased to find a number of small clay pots filled with potions and balms, which smelled of olives, lavender, peppermint, and yarrow. He smeared the thick creams into his wounds, which stung sharply for a moment, though the sting quickly melted away and left a cool, tingly sensation of relief. He sighed, for a moment content, until he caught sight of the glass. Set into the open cabinet door was a long mirror. Remus had somehow failed to notice it, but now he stared, enthralled by what he saw.

A man of average height. Wide shoulders, well muscled torso, arms that were almost a touch too long for his body... Remus frowned. He didn't know when he had gone so brown. He supposed it was to be expected, having lived so long out in the wilderness. But now, his skin was a deep tan, throwing his scars into sharp relief. They covered the majority of his skin, some white like spider webs, some still pink and taught as they tried to heal. He heaved another sigh. The scars provided a sort of grotesque texture, but otherwise, he was a rather plain looking fellow. Mid-brown hair, mid-brown eyes, mid-brown skin. He turned away. 

Remus gathered the clean tunic and breeches from the bench. He pulled them on slowly, reviewing his situation. He had been pulled away from what he thought was certain death, removed from his people, tossed into this fine house. Why? To what end? What did they intend for him? And this man, this Sirius Black. Remus paused at the memory of Sirius, his hot eyes, his radiating intensity. What use did he have for a werewolf? Remus scowled, and tied on his breeches with more force than was required. He left the bathing room, and followed the lingering scent of frankincense on the air to a door, which he pushed open; this confusion had gone on long enough. He would get some answers. 

☆ ☆ ☆ ☽ ☆ ☆ ☆

Sirius had just laid down his heavy, silver-backed brush, when he heard the door slide open. He didn't bother looking up.

"I imagine you must be hungry," he said. "I don't suppose you've been treated particularly well." He heard a snort, and smiled. He murmured an incantation as he trailed his wand through the air. The flickering torches dimmed, and the scent of fresh fruit filled his nostrils.  
"I have prepared prepared a small meal for you," he said, waving a hand toward a small table, laden with peaches, plums, figs, dates, cherries, a bowl of thick olive oil, a tall stack of toasted bread, chilled quail meat, a thick slab of salted pork, and an especially fine jar of sweet clover honey. Sirius held a heavy bottle of red wine in one hand, and a pair of ornate goblets in the other, which he carried to the table. "I would offer you a virgin sacrifice, however, those are rather thin on the ground around here." He glanced at the werewolf for a reaction, and paused.

Remus stood very still just inside the door. The white of his clean tunic set off his beautiful skin, which was the colour of toasted almonds. His hair was still damp and starting to curl on his high forehead. Now that the mud had been washed away, Sirius could see that his guest was covered from head to toe in scars. In the flickering light of the torches, he seemed to move even as he stood still. Sirius was hit with a sudden desire to trace each of those scars with tongue. He gave Remus a positively wolfish grin.

"Won't you come join me?"

Remus stayed where he was, but there was a small smile on his soft lips.

"You would dine with a beast?" he asked. Sirius raised his eyebrows in mock surprise.  
"Are you a beast, then? I have seen little evidence to that effect," he said. "Now, really, I insist that you eat." Remus paused a moment longer, then crossed to the table. Sirius nodded.  
"You have your choice of pillow," he said, flopping down onto a pile of silk cushions. Remus, for his part, sat cross-legged on the bare stones, which only made Sirius smile more broadly. He filled their goblets, passed one to Remus, and began to eat.

Watching Remus eat was a highly pleasurable experience for Sirius. He began uncertainly, taking a peach from the dish and sniffing it. When he had deemed it safe, he took a small bite, chewed almost experimentally, and swallowed with care. Then he paused, and Sirius knew he was waiting for any poisons to make themselves known. But as Sirius started to tuck in, Remus allowed his hunger to move him. He demolished the peach, juice dripping from his chin and down his wrists. He took another, and it was reduced to a pit in a matter of seconds. He moved on to the bread, which he drizzled with oil, and washed down with a mouthful of wine. Next he sampled the cherries, which stained his lips red and left droplets of red on his tunic, not that Remus seemed to notice or care. He ate with a sort of intense focus, and Sirius found himself unable to look away. 

After the fifth peach and a healthy portion of the quail meat, some of the frenzy seemed to die away, and it was now Sirius who found himself under intense scrutiny. He smiled into his wine, and took a plum, biting into its purple flesh. He licked the sweet juice from his lips, and turned to face the werewolf, who blinked slowly at him, watching his tongue. The silence stretched on for a long moment, until-

"Why have you brought me here?"

He asked it so quietly, that for a moment, Sirius thought he may have imagined it. He turned to Remus.

"Have you not guessed it yet?" he asked, looking up at the wolf with a feigned causal air. Remus shook his head slowly.  
"I had assumed that I would be killed for my actions in the arena," he said. Sirius shrugged.  
"You might have been, had I not intervened." Remus did not seem impressed by this. He hummed a little and went back to his wine. Sirius frowned at him, surprised.  
"Are you not thankful that I saved your life?" he asked. Now it was Remus who shrugged.  
"I had no desire to die, but I must admit, it wasn't much of a life you saved." Sirius considered this for a long moment, till the wolf looked at him again.  
"I am curious," he said. "Why did you intervene? What do you want with me?" 

Sirius raised himself up on his cushions, reaching for the bottle of wine. He topped up his own goblet, and then Remus's, and took a long drink. When Remus raised his goblet to his lips, Sirius smiled.

"I want you to fuck me," he said, and smirked as Remus choked on his wine.

 

☆ ☆ ☆ ☾ ☆ ☆ ☆

Remus spluttered, coughing on a mouthful of wine. He looked around wild-eyed at Sirius, who was eyeing him with amusement. Remus flushed as he wiped the wine from his face.

"You want- You- What?" he stammered, alarmed. Sirius leaned back on his arms, looking smug.

"I don't know how I could be more clear," he said. "I want to lay with you, I want to touch you, I want you to throw me down on the ground and have your wicked way with me, I want to ride you until we are both exhausted, our throats raw from screaming." Remus stared at him, faintly aware that his mouth had fallen open. He looked away and cleared his throat. 

"If that is a joke, it's in very poor taste," he said. He heard Sirius scoff.  
"I never joke about sex, little wolf." Remus flinched. Then he looked back at Sirius, his jaw set. He gazed at the young man with hard eyes.

"Tell me, Sirius Black," he said after a moment of consideration. "Have you ever laid with a werewolf before?" Sirius shrugged.  
"Before this moment, I had not shared a meal with a werewolf. Yet here we are." Remus shut his eyes and took a deep breath.  
"It is impossible," he said. "What you're asking, it cannot be done." 

Perhaps because the blood was beating so loudly against his eardrums, Remus did not hear the slide of flesh and fabric. All he knew was that, quite suddenly, a warm weight was sliding into his lap. His eyes snapped open. Sirius looked down into his eyes, that same confident smile on his face, and ran his fingers loosely along the neck of Remus's tunic. Remus stiffened at the touch which raised goosebumps on his skin. Sirius reached for his hand. He brought it to his face, and gently kissed the tips of each of Remus's fingers. Then, meeting Remus's eyes, he slowly slid two of his fingers into his mouth. He slid his tongue across the knuckles, and sucked hard. Remus felt himself gasp, and his body reacted, bucking under the weight of the young wizard. Sirius slid the fingers from his lips, and trailed Remus's hand down his neck, down his chest, down his waist, and pressed it to his hip, looking entirely smug.

"It seems fairly easy to me," he said in a low voice, and he arched his hips against Remus, who gripped his hip almost without meaning to. Remus gazed at Sirius, and felt the heat rising in his flesh. He clenched his jaw, suddenly agitated. 

He dug his fingers into Sirius, who gasped, and slid out from under him, flipping him onto his back. He heard the breath go out of the wizard. Snarling, Remus forced Sirius's legs open, and settled his weight between them, pressing his hips down hard against Sirius, who arched his own hips up to meet him. Remus looked into those green eyes, and found them hot, expectant, full of yearning. He swallowed hard, and raked the claws of his free hand down Sirius's chest. The wizard shuddered, glancing down at the red trails that marked his skin. He looked back up at Remus, licking his lips. 

"A wolf," said Remus, voice thick with restraint, "does not lay with a man, Sirius. A wolf leaves him completely ruined. It would be impossible for us to mate, wizard, because I would break you." Sirius's eyes widened as Remus spoke, but he did not look afraid. With a look of open defiance on his face, he pushed himself up onto his elbows until his nose brushed against Remus's jaw. When he spoke, Remus could feel his breath hot against his face.

"I love a good challenge, wolf," he said, and with a growl, pressed a searing kiss to Remus's lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...she smutted, smuttily.
> 
> I wrote this chapter in my parents' living room while they talked about their dinner plans, which was weirdly nice and nostalgic, because that is pretty much how I spent all of my teen years.
> 
> I hope you like!


	4. Chapter 4

'He tastes like fresh peaches,' whispered a voice in Remus's head. In another moment, every thought evaporated, and he was kissing Sirius with all the passion that he had tried for so long to quell in himself. All the cells in his body were lighting up as Sirius moved beneath him, rolling up into his pelvis even as he tried to drag him down closer. His hands reached for Remus, sliding over all the bare skin he could find, dragging sharp nails across his back and shoulders. Remus gasped against his lips, and Sirius, ever the opportunist, tasted his tongue, sucked it into his mouth. Remus trembled, his pulse beating rapidly in his throat, and pulled back to stare in amazement at the young man before him.

Sirius was splayed out on the ground. His lips were parted, stained red from cherries and fervent kisses. His eyes were dark, pupils blown and lashes fluttering. His usually pale skin was hot, with embers glowing in his cheeks. The perfect curls were rumpled, tumbling into those radiant eyes and fanning out across the stone. He looked ravaged, and the look he aimed at Remus was one of overwhelming desire. He was the most beautiful thing Remus had ever seen. And he was pushing himself up, forcing himself back into Remus's lap and then over, knocking Remus back into the table, which rocked and threatened to collapse. Remus wouldn't have cared. The whole place could have fallen around him, and he wouldn't have noticed, because Sirius was devouring him again, all lips and hands and teeth, tasting his jaw and biting his ear as those long, beautiful fingers tangled in his hair. Remus shuddered hard as he grabbed those slender hips, filled with a desperation he had not felt in years. He could feel Sirius grow hard against him and bucked against his hips, wanting to be closer, needing to be closer--

BANG.

The sudden loud crack was followed by a great crunching sound as the young men jumped, knocking into the legs of the table behind them, which gave out and sent fruit tumbling across the floor. They leapt to their feet in unison, turning to the source of the sound. 

"Andromeda!" Sirius snapped. "What are you doing-"  
"Sirius, there's no time," hissed the young woman. Remus stared wildly between the two of them. The young woman was swathed in pale blue-green silk. Her chestnut hair was held in an artful pile on her head by a series of pearl-tipped pins, and the fierce acrimonious expression on her face made her look like a warrior goddess. Remus stepped back, bristling.  
"I tried to hold him off, I tried to make him leave, but mother wouldn't have it. He's here, that horrible beast is here Sirius, and he's coming to see you." Sirius flinched as though he'd been struck, and threw a stunned look at Remus.  
"Why, what did he say he wanted?" he demanded, whirling back to the girl.  
"He didn't, he just said he needed to speak to you. I have to go, mother would be furious if she knew I came to warn you-" With another sharp crack, she was gone. For a moment, Sirius just stared at the spot where she'd been. Then he whipped around, drawing his wand. Remus recoiled, but the tip of the wand did not swing around to him. Sirius was muttering incantations at dizzying speed, and as Remus watched, the room returned to rights. The spilled food rolled to the centre of the room and winked out of existence. The table jumped back onto its legs and sped into the corner. The torches roared back to high working order, filling the room with light. The filmy curtains separating the bed from the rest of the room darkened and became more opaque.

"Hide," said Sirius. Remus stared at him, and the wizard huffed, shoving him toward the curtain. "Hide there, don't make a sound, and don't come out until I tell you to!" Remus stumbled to the bed, scowling.  
"What's happening, who's coming, wha-"  
"We're about to receive a visit from the most odious creature I have ever encountered," said Sirius grimly. "And I grew up with my mother." He pushed Remus onto the bed, and drew the curtains in his face. Remus could see his faint outline through the cloth, tracing shapes with his wand and muttering furiously. A wave of warm air hit Remus, and suddenly the sound of his breathing became oddly hollow in his own ears, as though he had been muted. He pulled himself higher up on the bed and hugged his legs to his chest. A few seconds of silence passed, and Remus considered tearing out of the room, running as fast as he could, leaving this frustrating wizard to deal with this oncoming dread and reclaiming his freedom, but just as he started to rise, there was a knock at the door. 

☆ ☆ ☆ ☽ ☆ ☆ ☆

Sirius whipped around to face the door, breathing heavily.

"Son? You have a visitor, open the door." He scowled. She had escorted the brute to his door. His tongue darted across his lower lip as he smoothed back his hair, and found that he still tasted like the wolf. He glanced over his shoulder at his bed, apprehensive. He had thrown every concealment charm he could think of at the curtains, he hoped it would be enough-

"Son, open the door this instant!" Walburga shrieked, making Sirius jump.  
"Coming, mother," he said, and strode to the door. It burst open as he reached for the handle, and he was face to face with his mother, who held her wand like a sword, still seething. He scowled at her.

"Please do come in, mother, always such a delight to have you stop by," he said. Walburga peered into the room and sniffed hard.  
"You have a visitor, Sirius. You remember Fenrir, don't you?"

Sirius couldn't stop his lip from curling. But then, Sirius didn't really try. Fenrir Greyback stepped forward and filled the entire doorway. His snarled grey hair had been smoothed down and tied back, and his face had been washed and shaved, but it mattered not. Sirius could smell the blood on him from where he stood. The werewolf gave a terse bow.

"A very good afternoon to you, my lord," he said in well-oiled tones. "I do hope the day is treating you well."  
"And you, Fenrir, how nice to see you," said Sirius. "I hear you've had quite the active month. It's a wonder you're still standing." The corner of Fenrir's mouth twisted.  
"Your concern moves me, my lord. But don't fret, it takes more than a few long nights to knock me down." He bared his teeth at Sirius in a grotesque pantomime of a smile. It was sickening. Sirius cleared his throat.

"Well, Fenrir, to what do I owe the honour?" he asked. The werewolf fully entered the room, still grinning.  
"You see, my lord, I have heard on good authority that you saw a rather interesting show today down at the arena," he said, eyes darting around to every corner of the room. "Some pup put on a funny old act for you and yours." Sirius nodded.  
"I was there, yes."  
"Mmm. Funny old thing, really. A whole stadium of people saw my dog caught, and then, it seems, he disappeared." Fenrir allowed himself a coy smile. "Lucky dog must've learned to apparate, it seems." Sirius stepped back as the beast began to pace.

"I'm afraid that doesn't quite answer my question, Fenrir. What, precisely, are you doing HERE?" Fenrir snapped his head around to stare at Sirius, his nostrils flaring. He was positively sniffing the air. Sirius flinched at the look of gloating in those sharp amber eyes. Fenrir only shrugged, looking quite relaxed.

"A hunch, my lord, call it a hunch. A voice on the wind told me that one of your fair number had an eye on this particular mutt." Fenrir shrugged. "I said to myself, 'What sort of a man would openly flout the laws of his people? What sort of a disgusting, dim-witted degenerate would be so reckless as to risk his neck just so's he can sodomize my mutt?'" Fenrir arched a brow at Sirius, leering at him. "So I figured I would come down here to ask if you knew anyone who fit the description."

Sirius gritted his teeth, willing himself to remain calm. He tilted his head, as if in thought, gazing cooly at Fenrir.

"Fascinating. What a mystery. A wizard, wanting to dally with a werewolf? A wizard who would dirty himself with such a low, loathsome creature, so completely beneath him, so unworthy of anything kinder than the sole of a peasant's boot?" He paused, deriving a sick pleasure from the way Fenrir narrowed his eyes at him. He turned to his mother with a smile.  
"Mother, can you think of any one of our crowd who would dare such a thing?"

Walburga gave her son a look so cold that it seemed to suck the air out of the room. Sirius arched a brow at her. He knew her struggle. She would love to see Sirius exposed, to see him made to face the consequences for his crime against nature, but... If Fenrir knew that her son had taken a werewolf to his bed, he wouldn't stop at punishing Sirius. He'd tear the flesh from all their backs, and burn the place to the ground till he found his wayward wolf. He had betrayed the wolves to the wizards, but it was known that Fenrir Greyback was only loyal to his own best interests, and this wolf seemed to interest him deeply. After a pause that stretched on a hair too long, Walburga turned back to the brute.

"I'm afraid we cannot help you, Fenrir. I know no one of that sort." 

Sirius breathed out slowly, then turned to face Fenrir.

"I'm sure my mother and I wish you the best of luck in finding this mutt of yours."

Fenrir curled his claws into fists, but much to Sirius's surprise, the old wolf looked almost amused. He gave another short bow, gave one more glance around the room, and then stalked out into the hall. Walburga shot her son a look, but followed Fenrir, shutting the door behind her.

Sirius stood stock still for a long moment, listening to their footsteps fading away. He waited till he could hear nothing but the birds in the trees beyond his window. Then, with a grimace, he crossed the room to where his bed stood. He moved his wand through the air in a complicated gesture, undoing his concealment charms, pulled aside the curtains, and met the furious eyes of the werewolf in his bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel I should say at this point, all these characters are property of JK Rowling! She created the characters, asktheboywholived created the idea (http://asktheboywholived.tumblr.com/post/160361366017/wolfstar-au-synopsis-the-empiremore), and I created the erections.
> 
> All feedback is welcome!


	5. Chapter 5

Alone in the dark, constricted by the many layers of magic, Remus found that he couldn't stop shaking; he had heard Fenrir's name and lost control of his body. At Fenrir's voice, he lost the ability to breathe. The last time he had heard that voice had been his last night of freedom, roaring with laughter across a river of blood. Remus had watched that monster carry the severed head of his friend, his leader. Fenrir had trailed behind the wolves who had been deemed fit enough to fight for the amusement of the wealthy, singing old battle songs, swinging Romulus's head by the hair. When they had reached the prison which was to be Remus's new home, Fenrir had jammed Romulus's head onto a spike with such force that the sharpened end had nearly burst through the forehead. Then, practically giggling with glee, he had erected the spike outside the only window of the cell. He said it was for those who missed their dear friend. It served as a grim reminder of what they had fought for, and, as the weeks had crawled by, the scent of rotting flesh made sleeping nearly impossible; it became a common occurrence for Remus to wake with a start, already retching. He could very nearly smell it now, and Remus shuddered hard, digging his claws into his arms to keep from keeling over. He forced himself to stay focused on the dreadful meeting beyond the curtains.

"A wizard who would dirty himself with such a low, loathsome creature, so completely beneath him, so unworthy of anything kinder than the sole of a peasant's boot? Mother, can you think of any one of our crowd who would dare such a thing?" 

Unworthy of anything kinder than the sole of a peasant's boot. The words rang in Remus's ears. He curled his lip in a silent snarl. Tiny rivulets of blood trickled from the places on his arms where his claws had pierced the skin, and it filled his nose and mouth with the bitter tang. Vile words from the mouth that he had allowed himself to be ravaged by. The events of the afternoon came crashing down on him with their full weight; he had fought for his kind. He had spent months doing all he could to give the werewolves the justice they were owed from the world. He had seen his friends kidnapped, tortured, and killed for no crime more serious than their nature. He had seen his family made to fight each other, so desperate for a chance to live that they performed the very atrocities that they feared. And through it all, the wizards had hovered above them, laughing. They had begged for the bloodshed. They had cheered as children made mud from the ash and blood of their kin, and still they weren't satisfied. 

Remus had fought for his freedom, and had felt it torn from his grasp. Then, facing certain death, he had been handed a final, golden opportunity for revenge. He had dug his claws into the flesh of a highborn wizard- 

And his lips were still bruised from Sirius's kisses.

Remus felt dizzy with self-loathing. As if from a long ways away, he heard the door shut as Fenrir left the room. And as Sirius approached, casting a silhouette against the curtains, Remus knew that the true monster was there in the dark, a monster born of his own sickening lasciviousness. 

The curtains pulled open. Remus looked into Sirius's eyes, and saw the monster reflected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a comparatively short chapter, but it's been a very long day, and it just felt like a good night for a bit of angst.
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone reading this, and especially to asktheboywholived, who made this possible! I am very appreciative of the support, thankthankthank!
> 
> Let me know what you think. :}


	6. Chapter 6

A dramatic scene was unfolding in the hall. Fenrir had left, leaving the maelstrom that was Walburga free to vent her spleen without risk of offending company. She had demanded a drink. The drink arrived. There was a crash, followed by a hair-raising screech, for the poor servant, in her haste, had given her lady water. The tirade was echoing all up and down the halls. 

"YOU UNBELIEVABLE IMBECILE, I OUGHT TO HAVE YOU THROWN INTO THE STREETS, INTO A DEN OF VIPERS, YOU TRIFLING, SCHEMING PIECE OF INDEFENSIBLE FILTH!"

It was all going rather poorly for the servant.

Sirius could sympathize. 

The longest thirty seconds of his life had passed, staring silently at Remus. He was aware of the fact that he was waiting, he just didn't know what for. Remus to attack him, perhaps. The werewolf was so tensely coiled, that Sirius was certain he couldn't be comfortable. The sensual lips were pressed into a thin white line, and all the heat had gone from his eyes.

It was not the first look of absolute hatred that had been thrown at Sirius that day. It wasn't even the tenth. Looks of absolute hatred had become as routine a part of his day as breathing.

So, logically speaking, it shouldn't have stung.

He rolled his eyes and huffed. 

"Come on, your quarters should be ready for you now," he grumbled as he made to leave the room. He was reaching for the door handles before Remus spoke.

"I thought you wanted me to fuck you," he said quietly. Sirius froze. Not at the words, his words, thrown back in his face, but at the tone. He glanced over his shoulder. Remus was rising from the bed like a column of smoke. He did not meet his eye.  
"I thought that you wanted to dally with a werewolf. I thought that you wanted to dirty yourself with a low, loathsome creature. Or did I misunderstand your meaning?" Sirius turned on a sigh. He shot a sarcastic smile at the wolf.

"No, I invited you into my bed so that we could bond over our shared background and cultural views," he said. "Does it matter why I brought you here, when you consider where I took you from?" 

Remus was approaching slowly, and every hair on the back of Sirius's neck rose. It would have been less frightening if he'd been shouting, but there was a menace in his soft voice that had Sirius wishing he was armed.

"Do you know where you took me from?" asked Remus.  
"Certain death," he said. Remus continued as though he hadn't heard from.

"You took me from my people. You came in the night, and you stole us from our home."  
"I think if you cast your mind back, you may recall that I was not there."  
"You broke our spirit, you killed us in scores, and then, when there was so little we had left, you took me-"  
"I wish you would drop the melodrama, it does make this conversation more difficult," Sirius interjected. "Where I took you from, was a cell. A crowded, dirty cell, where you were surrounded by other beasts who would cheerfully rip the nails from your fingers if a wizard so much as hinted that they'd enjoy such a spectacle. Clearly, 'your people' feel about as warmly toward your kind as we wizards do." 

Remus was less than a foot from him now, and Sirius took a step back, bumping gently into the door. 

"I would take one of my brothers ripping the nails from my fingers any day of the week, if it meant I'd never have to see your face again," said Remus coolly. In spite of himself, Sirius gave a short humourless laugh.  
"I saw your face when I kissed you, we both know that you're lying through your fangs," he said. Remus closed his mouth with an audible snap. Sirius smirked and shook his head.

"You don't have to like me, wolf, but I'm not going to waste my time listening to you trying to convince yourself that you don't yearn for me. Considering the circumstances, you should consider your lust an added perk. It certainly makes things easier on the both of us," he said. Remus scowled.  
"What are you suggesting, wizard?" Sirius huffed, thoroughly fed up with this conversation. 

"I suggest you decide now. As I understand it, you have two options facing you. The first, you accept that I saved your life because I wanted you, you accept that you desire my body, and you accept my most charitable offer of a place to live, food to eat, and vigorous sex whenever we both wish it. The second, you allow yourself to be swayed by your feelings about who I am as a person, and you refuse me. You will likely be returned to your damp little cell until my mother's schedule frees up enough to kill you in her usual thorough manner, but, at least you won't have compromised your precious morals," he sneered.

Remus appeared to be on the verge of snapping. There was a vein pulsing a rapid tattoo in his forehead, and it looked to Sirius as though he had completely forgotten to breathe. When he did speak at last, it was through his teeth.

"So, what you're telling me is that I have the option of either becoming your whore, or being butchered?" he spat. He was clearly holding back a tidal wave of savagery with little more than a length of string, which made Sirius's response all the more unwise, but his mouth had fallen into a devious smile before the thought even occurred that he ought to tread carefully. 

"Whore is such an ugly word," he said. "I would prefer concubine." 

Remus's mouth opened, shut, and opened again. His skin had darkened, and from where Sirius stood it sounded as though he was choking. Every tendon was a spot of visible, straining white against his skin. It was one of the finest apoplectic episodes that Sirius had ever seen. He grinned madly.

"You know," he mused. "You look almost unreasonably pretty when you're angry." He reached out, and patted the werewolf lightly on the cheek. This, it seemed, was the point where 'far enough' became 'too far'. Remus blurred, and slapped Sirius so sharply across the face that he could immediately taste blood. The force of it sent him ricocheting off the door, and he very nearly fell to the ground. Tears were stinging his eyes. He put a hand to his face, amazed to find that his skin was actually giving off heat. He looked at Remus. His mouth had fallen open and his eyes were bulging out of his head. For all his years of use and abuse, and for all the violent threats that had been thrown at him, he had never in his life been struck like that. His face was stinging, and his ears were ringing, and he became faintly aware that his own hand was coming up. It met Remus's face with a crack, and then the werewolf grabbed him by the shoulders with murder in his eyes, and then they were on the ground. 

☆ ☆ ☆ ☾ ☆ ☆ ☆

Remus could feel that all of his old wounds had reopened. The flesh along his side, which had started to heal, split along the claw marks, spilling blood down his legs. There was sweat pooling on his forehead, speckled pink from the cut on his temple. A new thin gash along his cheekbone was dappling his red cheek with blood. He could taste it in his mouth. He was a monster, twisted out of blood and dirt by a cruel sculptor. He hit Sirius as hard as he could, whenever the wizard slowed enough for his hits to land, and felt something akin to relief flooding his body. At last, he was doing something. At last, he was inflicting some of his won pain onto those who had given birth to it. He stared down at Sirius as the man rolled up into a crouch, an ugly, twisted look on his face, spinning wildly with his nails outstretched, and let out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a howl.

Without resorting to the bite, he had turned Sirius into a monster.

Fenrir would be so proud.

The name in his mind was as a good as a bucket of ice water to Remus. He emerged from his rage so quickly that it made him gasp. What was he doing? What had he become? Sirius caught him across the face with an angry swipe that left thin red marks along his nose, and his eyes watered. As the arm swung back around, Remus caught it and pulled, knocking Sirius off balance. The wizard landed hard on all fours, and Remus planted a knee between his shoulder blades, still holding his arm. He free hand caught Sirius by the throat, and pulled him up hard even as his knee pushed him down. The contortion made Sirius grunt in pain. Remus took a deep breath, and released it on a hiss.

"Shhhhhh."

He felt Sirius tense. The pulse he held in his hand was beating like hooves, and Remus held it more tightly, gripping that long neck with hard fingers. He allowed the moment to stretch on until Sirius began to wriggle, trying to find a way to break free.

"I could kill you now," said Remus conversationally. "It might make me feel better. I don't think I'd even feel guilty." Sirius stilled immediately. Remus smiled grimly.  
"Do you think that your mother would be cross if I killed you?" he went on. "I would have thought she would, but the way she spoke to you earlier... You know, Sirius, I don't think she likes you very much." 

Sirius grunted and bucked again, making Remus incredibly aware of the places where their bodies touched. He tried to shake those feelings from his head. He needed a clear mind for this, and those particular post-battle effects would do little to assist him here. He readjusted so that as little of his body as possible was pressed against Sirius, and continued.

"Yours is a powerful family, Black. I was aware of you even when I was out in the woods, living on rats and scavenging to keep alive. You are clearly already far from your mother's good graces, so I'm curious. You could have brought any lover you liked back here. Why a werewolf?" He relaxed his grip on Sirius's throat enough that the young man could answer.

"I am not in her good graces, and she is not in mine," he croaked. Remus cocked his head to one side.  
"You said you claimed me because you desired me," he pointed out.  
"I did. Making mother furious was an added perk."

And now Remus was smiling. Blood was dripping into his eyes, but he could feel a tiny blossom of hope in his chest. A wizard who thought with his body instead of his mind. One who was impulsive, fiery, and keen to agitate his mother. A wizard who seemed willing to trample his own name into the mud if it amused him. This was an arrogant, fool-hardy, narcissistic little twerp of a wizard.

This was a wizard that he could use.

Slowly, deliberately, Remus stood, and took a few steps back until there was a wide gap between himself and Sirius. The wizard stayed low to the ground for a long moment before he risked a glance over his shoulder. Remus clasped his hands behind his back and gazed coolly down at him. 

"Where am I to stay?" he asked. Sirius got to his feet, and Remus bit his lip to keep from laughing. The wizard had blood smeared across his lip and forehead, his hair was a sweaty mess, and there was a bruise already forming on his shoulder. But he was glowering at Remus like a petulant child, apparently unconcerned by his state. He just stood there blinking like a suspicious owl.

"You- What?" Remus smiled gently.

"You said that my quarters were ready. I assume this means that you plan to keep me here?" Sirius squinted.

"That had been the plan, yes." Remus nodded.

"You would, of course, wish to have me on hand, easily accessible," he said. Sirius pushed a bloody curl out of his eye impatiently.

"Yes, that is how these things usually work."

"Ah. This is my first time entering into such an arrangement, you'll have to forgive me," said Remus solemnly. Sirius's face was a caricature of disbelief. He mouth opened, but no sound came out. Remus tilted his head, and waited for his words to sink in.

"What do you mean by this?" asked Sirius.

"I mean that I have considered your charitable offer, Black," said Remus. "I have thought it over, and I have decided to accept you." Sirius narrowed his eyes.

"You have, have you?"

"Yes, it seems my best bet at a long, contented life. Shall we embrace now, or would you like to clean up first?" 

☆ ☆ ☆ ☽ ☆ ☆ ☆

It was Sirius's turn to splutter incoherently. He stared at Remus, who was looking positively docile under all the blood. To Sirius's consternation, the wolf was reaching to remove his tunic.

"Stop that," Sirius snapped, and Remus paused in the act of pulling the material over his head so that the cloth hitched up to reveal his scarred midriff. He shrugged, and pulled the tunic back into place.

"Whatever you wish, my lord," he said, with a short bow.

"And you can stop that, too," said Sirius, glaring. "I don't understand what you think you're going to accomplish with this charade, but I can tell you that it's already boring me."

"As my lord says," replied Remus in grave tones, and Sirius growled.

"So what is the plan, then? You put on this little act, I bed you, and then as I drift off, you kill me? Break out of the Black family home, honour restored? Or will you murder the whole lot of us, and take to the streets with our heads on spikes?" Remus rolled his eyes, looking exasperated.

"No, that is not the plan. Gods above, and you accused me of being melodramatic? I am not going to kill you, Black. I give you my word on that."

Sirius scoffed. "You'll understand, I hope, when I say that my past experiences have left me less than trusting of something as flimsy as the word of a werewolf?" Remus opened his mouth to respond, then seemed to think better of it. Sirius narrowed his eyes as the wolf gave him a small smile.

"What would it take to convince you, then, Black?"

Sirius rolled his head back and smirked, considering the werewolf. He extended a hand, which, after a tense little pause, was taken accepted. He led Remus over to his bed, and pushed him down onto the mattress. The wolf raised his brow at the wizard, but Sirius turned to his small dressing table. He pulled a small bundle of fabric from below his wash basin, and tossed it onto his pillow. Remus took it, eyes narrowed in suspicion, and pulled away the cloth. Sirius kept his eyes on Remus's face. The werewolf looked confused. Then, awareness dawned, and his eyes snapped back up to Sirius, looking nettled. The length of leather in his hands was a simple thing, weighted by an iron ring in its center, and heavy iron fasteners on either end. Sirius smiled.

"I had it made when I first arrived home," he said. "And then I enchanted it myself. It may come as a surprise to you, as you clearly think me an imbecile, but I am in fact quite knowledgeable in the art of defensive magic." He pointed at the collar. "I charmed it myself. Once I put it on you, only I will be able to remove it. And if you should try to hurt me, beyond what I find enjoyable, I mean-" he allowed himself a sly wink. "-it will constrict, tightening around your neck until you are dead." Sirius smiled. "I still won't trust you, of course, I haven't got where I am today being stupid enough to trust people, but it certainly would ease my mind a great deal."

Remus remained silent, glaring at Sirius with extreme distaste. But he seemed to make up his mind. He stood so quickly that Sirius took an immediate step back, already reaching for his wand. But the wolf held the collar out to him, lips curled, and as Sirius took it from him, he turned, offering Sirius his neck. Sirius grinned to himself. He reached around, placing the collar around Remus's throat as though it were a fine necklace, and closed the clasp with a snap. He pressed a soft kiss to Remus's shoulder.

"A perfect fit," he murmured, feeling incredibly smug. Then he took the wolf by the hand and led him over to a wall that was covered in magnificent tapestries. He strode up to one, depicting a simple shepherd passing infant twins into the arms of his wife, and twitched it aside to reveal a door. He stepped back to allow Remus access. Remus opened the door, and Sirius followed him through.

Beyond the door was a set of extravagant rooms. The stone floors were covered in deep, luxurious rugs. The walls were hidden by fine hanging cloth of the deepest crimson, which filled the room with a warm glow. A large bed stood against the far wall beneath a rich damask canopy, covered so thickly in silk sheets, wool blankets, and embroidered cushions, that the mattress was completely hidden. Against the opposite wall stood a table and two chairs, all ornately carved with flowers. A pretty ceramic bowl on the table was filled with ripe figs, pomegranates, and peaches. Beyond the table was a series of large trunks, which Sirius knew to be filled with fine clothing of linen and silk. In the centre of the room was a pool, not as large as the one in the bathing room, but with the same steps leading down into the water, and with the addition of a small fountain, a standing stone upon which a satyr perched, pouring water endlessly from his jug. There were no torches in this room. All the light came from the ceiling, which at first glance seemed to be a wide window, open to the sky. After a moment's study, however, it became clear that in fact the stone had been enchanted to dance with clouds and butterflies, tracking a miniature sun in it's path across a blue mosaic sky. Sirius smiled at the sight of it; truly, the chamber was exquisite, all light and air and warmth. He turned to Remus.

"Welcome home, Lupin," he said teasingly. Remus did not respond. He stared around the room, eyes round with amazement, and it occurred to Sirius that if he was impressed, it must be nothing compared to how Remus felt, after the darkness of his prison. He cleared his throat, and Remus looked around, too stunned to remember to scowl. Sirius smiled, this time at the sight of his werewolf.

His werewolf.

He coughed.

"I'll leave you to get cleaned up," he said, and turned to leave. He paused at the door. 

"I'll come for you in two hours," he said, back to his old smirking self. "And then, it will be your turn to come for me." And with that, he shut the door behind him on Remus's blushing face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact: I wrote the first half of this while listening to the Lord Of The Rings soundtrack, and then I wrote the second half while watching The Fellowship Of The Ring. 
> 
> Also, I don't know about you, but I can smell smut on the air.
> 
> Also also, I have definitely written a little bonus chapter for this story, which is focused around Fenrir and Bellatrix, and I'm not sure if I should post it or not. Thoughts? Share with me all of your thoughts!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A BONUS CHAPTER
> 
> Warning: This is a touch more graphic than the other chapters. Violence, heavy hinting at assault, etc. That's just how this werewolf were-rolls.

The door shut with a neat little thud. He started to walk away, but instinct told him to wait. He paused, sniffing the air. Then-

CRASH

"YOU UNBELIEVABLE IMBECILE, I OUGHT TO HAVE YOU THROWN INTO THE STREETS, INTO A DEN OF VIPERS, YOU TRIFLING, SCHEMING PIECE OF INDEFENSIBLE FILTH!"

Fenrir chuckled darkly, shaking his head. Ah, the antics of the affluent weak, clinging to their borrowed tyranny. He looked forward to the day when the moment was ripe to topple the house of Black. He could already taste Walbuga, sour on his tongue. Would she look indignant till the last, as his jaws snapped and her throat poured forth its bounty? He licked his teeth. He certainly hoped so. He turned back to the house, regarding it thoughtfully. Somewhere, tucked away, doubtless under a myriad of enchantments and concealing charms, was his dog. Remus. Remus, the skeptic. Fenrir shook his head again, amused.

Did the wizards really think they could conceal his favourite plaything, when the whole house reeked of his blood? He scoffed. He could easily follow his nose past that silly bitch and reclaim what was his, but... This situation held great potential for entertainment. Remus Lupin, so noble, so above it all, locked in a room that positively stank of blood and sex? Taken captive by a bored, hedonistic bastard like Sirius Black. Fenrir grinned at the thought. The fall-out was bound to be substantial. And then he would come, root through the remains, and take what he liked. He could hardly wait.

He turned once more to leave, when a new scent washed through his nostrils. The thick, familiar scent of musk, jasmine, and iron. He licked his teeth, and cast a lazy glance to where she stood, half-hidden in the shadow of a cypress tree. Wrapped in pale green silk, her pale, pale skin translucent in the sunlight, revealing to his eyes an entrancing pattern of thin blue veins, snaking up her neck like a poisonous vine. She inclined her noble head to him.

"Enjoying the show?" 

Fenrir made a great show of inhaling her scent before descending into a great bow.

"Why Miss Black, as I live and breathe, how delicious you look today," he said. She arched a fine brow at him.

"What brings the beast to the party?" she asked, voice dripping with disdain. 

"Merely asking after the Black family's new house guest," he replied. He twisted his features into a look of great concern. "Consorting with a werewolf? Tsk, my, the little eccentricities of the wealthy." 

Bellatrix pushed away from the tree, and made her way slowly toward Fenrir. He watched her approach with a languid eye.

"You're one to speak of eccentricities, Greyback," she said. "I remember the last time you stopped by, the gift you brought us. It took the servants a full month to scrub away the smell." She flashed her teeth at him. "The atrium still reeks of bile on a hot day."

Fenrir inclined his head, and took her hand in one gnarled paw. He raised it to his lips, enjoying the way her dark eyes narrowed at him. "A present in honour of my fair lady's beauty," he rumbled, pressing her hand to his chest in a display of great sincerity. She tore it out of his grip, her nostrils flaring. 

"If you ever touch me in that familiar way again, know that I will rip your testicles from your body and throw them into the fish pond," she said. Fenrir gave a great bark of laughter, and stared at her, his tongue caught between his fangs.

"Always a pleasure, Miss Black," he said with another low bow, and moved past her.

"What happens when a werewolf turns, Greyback?"

The question caught him off guard, and he turned slowly to look at her. She was staring at him haughtily, unafraid.

"When a werewolf turns, Miss Black?" he repeated. "Have you never witnessed it?" She shook her head sharply. Fenrir tilted his head, cracking his neck with a loud wet POP, and moved back to Bellatrix.  
"It is a remarkable thing," he murmured, walking around her in a slow circle. "The light of the full moon so much as touches your skin, and it's as though every cell in your body has caught fire." He moved his hands over the outline of her shoulders, skin an inch away from skin, so that he could feel the heat of her rising into his palms.  
"The force of the change catches in your stomach in the same moment that it breaks your spine." He brought his fist around to her abdomen, still not quite touching, circling her body with his arms.  
"All of your bones snap in succession. The sound in a room of changing wolves is unbelievable, nothing but heaving grunts, and the sick, suckling pop of joints changing their shape. And when the change reaches your head-" he lifted a hand to the side of her face, and felt her dark hair brush the tips of his fingers, "-it is as though your skull has been split open, and all that is left is your brain, exposed to the elements. For those moments before your skull reshapes itself, you are in the most inescapable pain that you have ever experienced."  
He fanned his hand across her navel, before sliding his arms back to his sides and moving to face her.

"The relief when you have completed the change is exquisite," he said. "That moment of release is better and sweeter than ripping into the first blood of a hundred virgins. I ought to know," he added, baring his teeth. "I am something of an authority on that subject."

Bellatrix stared at him, every muscle in her face twisted in repulsion, though her eyes were bright and rapt. 

"You truly are the most repugnant little worm, Greyback," she said at last. He furrowed his brows at her.

"Careful, Black. You might hurt my feelings." She laughed, like a pane of glass crashing to the ground.

"Feelings? I didn't tip you off to my cousin's new hobby to worry myself about something as inconsequential as the emotions of a scabby little mutt." Fenrir curled his lip, his fangs digging into the flesh of his lip.

"And why, pray tell, did you tip me off?" he asked. "What did you hope to gain?" 

Bellatrix scoffed, and turned abruptly to saunter away from him. She raised her hand lazily in dismissal, and her voice floated back to him.

"I was bored."

Fenrir watched her lithe figure, all long graceful legs and elegant arms supporting the head of a hellcat, until she was gone. Then, alone on the walk, he grinned.  
When the noble House of Black was ripe to fall, Fenrir would emerge from the shadows to lay waste to the survivors.  
He could almost taste Bellatrix, hot and sweet and dripping down his chin.

"I can't fucking wait," he whispered, and, without a backward glance, he was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so ends the bonus chapter! 
> 
> I really hope you liked it. Let me know if you'd like to see more of this sort of thing.
> 
> And thanks bunches to everyone who has been commenting, I really love the feedback!
> 
> Cheers!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not one for the children.

Remus had lost most of the feeling in his legs, and the gauges he'd been given in the arena were tingling in an altogether unpleasant way, but he didn't really notice any of it. He had been sitting cross-legged on a sumptuous rug for at least an hour and a half staring up at the enchanted mosaic. Before his eyes, it had slipped across the ceiling, painting a trail of brilliant golds and reds, and eventually disappeared from sight behind a fluffy cloud. A miniature crescent moon had begun its lazy journey over Remus's head, and as it had crept into view, tiny golden stars, like a thousand winking needle points, had begun popping in and out of view. If Remus focused hard enough, he could just make out diminutive constellations which disappeared and reappeared as thin, gossamer clouds danced by. The ceiling gave off a beautiful periwinkle light, casting long blue shadows that tasted like midnight. It was the prettiest thing that Remus had ever seen. But the warmth of the moon's light touching his skin brought to mind a niggling worry.

The full moon was a mere week away. He could feel its approach like fingers brushing against the end of his shadow. It filled him with apprehension. He had obviously changed more times that he could count, and he had developed a system wherein he could make sure that he'd be far away from any living creatures, even the other wolves, who could goad him into seeing the beauty in blood-stained teeth. He had spent the full moon alone for the past five years, far from all civilization. But unless he could stage his escape over the next few days, which seemed unlikely at present, he would have no opportunity to bury himself away.

A sudden image flashed in his mind of coming to in the early morning, next to the cold, mangled corpse of Sirius Black, his beautiful features forever frozen in an expression of revulsion and terror, blood caked in his long hair- Remus shuddered. It would not do. Though even the thought of it sent a shiver of loathing up his spine, he would have to find a way back to the cell for as long as the moon was fat in the sky. It would be a horrible thing to change in a space so full of other wolves, but if he should hurt-- Well. Anyone. If he should hurt anyone.

Remus shook his head furiously to dash the thoughts from his head, and returned his eyes to the graceful little moon, focusing on the plan. 

He had become so lost in his thoughts that he didn't feel the second hour pass him by. After a span of time that felt as brief as a heartbeat, he heard the heavy rustle of the tapestry on the other side of his door being pushed aside. He stood quickly, sending a twinge of pain through his side, and turned in time to see the door open. 

Remus had grown accustomed to the gentle light in his quarters. The flickering golden light that burst through the doorway to Sirius's room shocked him a moment before the warm scent of frankincense washed over him. Sirius stood in the doorway, his silhouette a smouldering red ember in the firelight from his room. Remus blinked. It was like staring into the sun. But then Sirius pulled the door shut behind him, his features emerging in the soft glow of a purple night, and the trance was broken. They were just two men gazing at each other under the expectant weight of what was to come. Remus was appalled to find that he was blushing, and thanked the gods that it was dark. He turned away, suddenly apprehensive, and listened to Sirius breathe. He licked his lips.

"I suppose we should, um," he said, waving a hand vaguely in front of him. Sirius snorted from somewhere behind him.  
"Such a way with words," he said. Remus frowned. He could hear Sirius slowly approaching, and for the life of him, he could not think of what to say. So he focused on simply keeping still until a sensation of warmth at his side told him that Sirius was there. He kept his eyes on the reflection of the moon in the pool. There were maybe ten inches between himself and Sirius. As the silence stretched on, Remus became agitated. Something should be happening, surely, shouldn't it? They had certainly jumped to it earlier in the afternoon. Hell, Remus's lips still felt tender, hours after the fact. This was ridiculous. This was too much to bear. He had just made up his mind to say something when Sirius raised his wand, the tip flaring up a ball of light. Remus flinched as the wand drew closer to him, passing over his body till it hovered near his hip. 

"You still haven't taken care of that," Sirius said. Remus glanced at him and saw he was frowning. He followed his gaze down to the spot where his rumpled tunic revealed his torn side. Remus shrugged and pulled the tunic back down into place.  
"It's nothing," he muttered, but Sirius pulled his hand away, and, a moment later, began impatiently tugging the tunic over Remus's head. Remus made a soft noise of surprise, moving instinctively to bat his hand away, before he remembered what Sirius was here to do. He swallowed, but allowed Sirius to strip him to the waist. He cleared his throat as Sirius tossed the balled up fabric over his shoulder.

"Should we go to the bed, or would you, um, prefer to..." Remus shrugged helplessly. "Because, you know, I'm fine with anything, wherever you'd like to, um. I- um. It's all fine with me, I mean." He grimaced at how nervous he sounded, but tried for a cool, composed expression. Sirius snorted again, smirking at him with a small shake of his head.

"Do try to relax, Lupin," said Sirius. "I'm not going to ravage you just this moment." Remus blushed again. And from this distance, Sirius could almost certainly see it, he thought. That was incredibly annoying. Sirius was leading him over to his new bed. It was still covered with cushions and extra blankets. Remus had been strangely reluctant to get into it. It was positively massive and looked too rich for the likes of him. He had not slept in a proper bed since he was a child, and then it had been a mattress stuffed with straw, and shared by three other children. This mattress was almost certainly stuffed with feathers, and the sheets were the sort of soft, cream-coloured linen that Remus knew instinctively he would ruin the moment they touched his skin. He watched from a distance as Sirius removed a layer of pillows, throwing them around with the merry abandon of the rich, comfortable in the knowledge that anything could be replaced for the right amount of coin. Remus ducked as a cushion, intricately embroidered with tiny violets which must have taken days to complete, went flying over his head and landed with a thump in the corner. He huffed, exasperated, and went to collect it. When he returned, it was to a much more approachable bed, made cozier with the addition of Sirius, who had come prepared with a small clay pot and a roll of bandages.

"Come sit," he said, patting the spot in front of him. Remus padded over, and, grateful that he was clean, climbed into the bed. He groaned as he sunk into the deep, plush mattress. If clouds could be harnessed, he imagined they would feel like this. Sirius smiled at him, looking rather pleased with himself. Then, he reached for Remus, guiding him down fully so that he was laying on his back with Sirius leaning over him. Remus bit his lip as he looked up at him. Sirius scooped a generous amount of cream out of the pot, and gently dabbed it into the claw marks striping Remus's side. Remus hissed through his teeth, scrunching his face up against the pain. Sirius paused in the motion, and set down the pot, freeing his second hand to splay across Remus's stomach. 

"It will stop hurting in a minute," he said, distracting Remus with the patterns he was tracing around his navel. Remus swallowed hard as he felt a pulse low in his abdomen and closed his eyes, unable to look at Sirius. He held as still as he could, both to make Sirius's job easier, and also to keep from following his instinct to the wizard's lips. With his eyes shut, he tracked the path that fingers were exploring on his body, on one side probing stinging wounds, on the other, dancing so softly over his sensitive skin that he got goosebumps. He gritted his teeth, trying to steady his breathing. 

Quite suddenly, Sirius reached for Remus, pulling him up till he was sitting squared to him. Remus opened his eyes and met Sirius's steady gaze. Without thinking, he leaned forward until their mouths connected. The pulse in his abdomen lurched, and he tasted Sirius deeply, urging his lips open and sliding against his tongue. Sirius brought a hand up to Remus's face, tracing the line of his cheekbone to his temple, burying his hand in Remus's hair and pulling him closer. Remus didn't hear himself moan, but felt the vibration in his lips as the breath gasped out of him. Sirius snarled, grabbing a fistful of Remus's hair, and pulled him away. Remus's eyes flew open, startled. Sirius looked as disheveled as he felt, but his eyes were inexplicably hard. 

"Stop," he ordered, and stood from the bed. Remus watched him, wary, and suddenly embarrassed. He looked away as Sirius unrolled the bandages, and began wrapping Remus's torso. Remus was wondering how on earth he could have misunderstood Sirius, what Sirius had wanted, or expected, when Sirius tied the bandage so hard that for a moment Remus couldn't breathe. He looked up. Sirius's eyes were indeed hard, made flinty with forced control. He threw the ends of the bandage into a tight knot, and dropped the remaining roll. 

"That too tight?" he asked in a strained voice. Remus blinked.

"Um. No?" he replied, dazed.

"Right," said Sirius, and he lunged.

He pushed Remus back into the pillows, climbing up to straddle him. He pulled his own tunic over his head and threw it away as though it had offended him. Then his hands were back on Remus, running over his stomach and dragging across his chest. He leaned forward to kiss Remus's throat, and was rewarded with a low growl. Remus reached up and grabbed a fistful of dark hair, pulling Sirius up to meet his mouth. They kissed ferociously, two creatures freed of their human sensibilities, falling into the madness of a purely animal instinct. 

Remus followed the line of Sirius's spine with a sharp claw, making Sirius shudder. Hands slipped lower, tracing the curve of his buttocks, and he rolled up, dragging Sirius underneath him. He ran a hand along his thigh, and Sirius hitched his legs up over Remus's hips eagerly in response. Pelvis rolled against pelvis, making both men pant frantically. Sirius was breathing hard into Remus's shoulder, and he kissed a rough line along his jaw down his neck, nipping at his ear. Sirius bucked hard against Remus, and Remus pushed himself up to look at him. He was a blur of colour in a dark room. The moon had slid behind a cloud, and Remus was blinded by the incredible sensations, touch and taste and sound all melting together. He pawed at Sirius's flesh, grasping his hips, knowing that this was all too intense to last, and wanting nothing more than to sink under this wave, to lose himself entirely.

Slowly, deliberately, he kissed the hollow of Sirius's throat. He brushed his lips, his teeth, against his collarbones, lingering to taste the pulse that danced there. He moved lower, trailing kisses across the broad chest, running his tongue over a nipple, encouraged by the way Sirius gasped and writhed. He slid his hands down Sirius's legs as his kisses trailed lower, willing himself to be patient, to pace himself, committing the places where the body dipped and swelled to memory. He nuzzled for a moment against Sirius's hip, digging his fingers into the soft flesh of his inner thighs.

"Is this alright?" he murmured raggedly, pressing soft kisses against the soft hair below Sirius's navel. There was no spoken reply, but he felt Sirius move. He was rising up onto his elbows, and Remus sat back to look up at him, his hand sliding against the silky skin of his legs. Sirius didn't look capable of forming words, but his expression was one of incredible frustration, and Remus chuckled despite himself. Locking onto those dark eyes, he slid his hand up higher, and grasped the length of him in his hand. Sirius's head rolled back on his shoulders, and he groaned, reaching for Remus. His hand slid into Remus's hair, and he pulled hard, making Remus growl and grip.

Then, encouraged by the gasping moan from above and the fingers that curled in his hair, Remus rose up onto his knees and took Sirius into his mouth. 

Sirius made a sound like a drowning man who had finally hit air. His body convulsed wildly. Remus hitched his thighs up to rest on his shoulders, and dug his fingers into the curved hip, his free hand wandering down his own torso to find himself as hard as the carnal flesh sliding along his tongue. They moved as one, Remus sliding his hand rhythmically over himself as Sirius rolled his hips up into his mouth. The tension in the air crackled like lightening. Remus could see bright lights flashing behind his eyelids, and he groaned with pleasure. Sirius was thrusting erratically, head flung back, hair sticking to his forehead and neck. There was a sense of crashing inevitability, a moment when time itself held its breath, and then the air snapped. Sirius opened his mouth in a silent scream, and found release. A moment later, Remus followed him, tumbling headlong into pleasure so pure that it temporarily deafened him.

Seconds passed, turning into minutes. The room was nothing but breath, heartbeats finding their way back into the veins and wrists. Remus fell back onto the floor, body suddenly heavy. He couldn't seem to open his eyes. All the overwhelming sensation had evaporated, leaving him wasted and incredibly sleepy. After what may have been minutes, or may have been a full hour, hands slid under his arms, and carefully lifted him up from the floor. He opened his eyes blearily, trying to focus on Sirius's drowsy smile. The two men fell onto the bed together, Sirius collecting himself long enough to tug the blankets up over their naked bodies, protecting them from the cool night air. Remus curled onto his side, and sighed contentedly as Sirius pressed his chest to his back. A heavy arm fell over his waist, and soft lips brushed against his shoulder. Warmth at his back, and soft snores ruffling his hair, Remus gave a small smile to the night, and fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...
> 
> Goodnight, everybody. ;}


	9. Chapter 9

He couldn't remember ever being this happy. His toes were dangling in cool blue-green waters which twinkled as the ripples kissed the sunlight. There were birds chirping, and a quick breeze was ruffling his hair. He breathed in deeply, and the air tasted like eucalyptus and honey. He sighed giddily, and looked over his shoulder, beaming. But the face that he expected to see was not there. Frowning, he clambered to his feet and looked around wildly. He was alone. How could he be alone? He trudged up along the bank, trailing his fingers over the tall grasses, humming softly to keep the bad feelings away. Something was very wrong. But there was a glimmer up ahead, a spot where the sunlight seemed to burst up from the ground. He moved with purpose now, arms and legs pumping like mad. He didn't know what he was running toward; he only knew that it was important.

He was running. He was running flat out, but he was still breathing easily. It had to be close, it had to be soon, it- 

It was now. He threw himself onto his hands and knees and dragged himself over the last swelling hill of grass. Pure, golden light was shimmering up from a deep well in the ground, rising like a thick radiant fog. He could feel it hot on his face, though he knew it would not hurt him. He pulled himself into the heat, and looked down into his own face. A pond, the surface as still and clear as a piece of glass, a few feet below him. He blinked down, and watched himself blink back up. Bright eyes, soft hair flopping down across his brow, smooth, tan skin...

No scars.

A whole, unspoiled face, beaming up at him, tears shining on his cheeks. He laughed breathlessly and leaned in closer, trying to see more clearly. He stretched out a hand toward himself, desperate to touch that smooth skin, desperate to BE this mirrored self, which was as close as the air in his lungs-- But a shadow was passing above him, blurring the impeccable face with darkness. He looked over his shoulder, startled.

"Tsk. Not for you, little mutt," said Fenrir through his teeth. His clawed fist drew back, and Remus, horrified, fell backwards, crashing through the crystalline surface-

Remus's eyes snapped up, and he sat bolt upright. It took several deep, painful breaths before he realized that he was in a bed. Why was he in a bed? He blinked furiously. A bed. A bed. 

His memory finally caught up with him, and he fell back against the pillows with a groan. It had been so vivid, he could still smell the eucalyptus, the fresh air, the frankincense, the roasting meat in sauces of herbs and butter... He opened one eye as his body caught up with his memories, and his nose gently crept up to his brain to inform it that something important appeared to be happening. Slower, now that he knew there was no danger, Remus sat up and looked around. Sirius was nowhere in sight. 'Thank goodness,' Remus thought as he rolled out from under the sheets in search of fresh garments. He had expected something like last night to happen, of course, but regardless, in the light of a new day, he didn't quite feel prepared to interact with the man with whom he'd shared an orgasm. The thought brought a rush of blood to Remus's cheeks, and he quickly changed his mental tack. 

Judging by the position of the sun on his ceiling, it was very quickly approaching midday. This came as a great surprise. For as long as he could remember, Remus had always risen with the first light. He had never been capable of sleeping in. The combination of a comfortable bed and some-- well. A select strain of nighttime activities, appeared to do wonders for him. He stretched, relishing how leisurely his muscles moved. He couldn't remember the last time he'd woken up without feeling sore. He padded out further into his room in search of his bearings. Something rather fascinating was happening on the small table in the corner; for one thing, the entire surface of the table was engulfed in flames. A spindly contraption rose from the fire, and on a thin skewer, appeared to be roasting three fat little quails. Coming closer to the table, Remus saw that the fire was in fact hovering over the table, which did little to comfort him, as it hovered much too close to the wall hangings to be safe. The table itself was heavily laden with a bowl of perfectly round rolls, a platter of fresh fruit, a round jug filled with what appeared to be goats milk, a shallow dish of roasted pork that was glistening with fat and speckled with rosemary, a heavy dish of assorted vegetables, a plate piled with the wings and necks of various poultry, squat jars of honey, and a flagon of hot wine, cut with water, honey, and spices. He gaped at the sheer magnitude of the food, and laughed weakly. One thing was clear. Sirius knew how to show his gratitude. 

As Sirius's name passed through Remus's mind, he found that in fact he quite wished to see him. He took a leg of something (a large chicken? a very small goose? it was unclear,) and continued taking stock of the place.

Cushions had been tossed into a rough pile by the pond. A sheet had been spread across the floor under a small flurry of white butterflies, which Remus did not remember from the night before. Plates and knives and goblets had been carefully arranged on the sheet, and a mandolin lay half under a half dozen blankets, which were close enough to the cushions to be accessed if someone got cold.

It looked like a picnic. More specifically, it looked like a picnic that had been arranged by someone who had only an approximate idea of what a picnic looked like. But the effort was there, and Remus grinned, feeling more merry in his exasperation at the mannerisms of the fortunate well-off than he had the night before. He was in the process of rearranging the plates, when a voice reached him.

"We had an agreement."  
"I am well aware, I gave you the night to do what you wished, now is it morning, and time to face your responsibilities."

The voices were floating over from the door to Sirius's room, which was slightly ajar. 

"Mother, I am not in the mood to discuss this right now-"  
"It is revoltingly apparent what you are in the mood for, and I will not stand for this embarrassment. Now, go put on your clothes."  
"I most certainly will not!"

Remus approached the door cautiously, a chicken leg in one hand, a plate in the other. He thought that if he got close enough, he might just be able to see through the crack--

"I see you are not to be reasoned with. If you are so keen to stay in my room, I hope you won't mind if I go elsewhere?"

The door swung open with a bang that made Remus jump. He raised the chicken leg wildly, wielding it as though it were a wand, his eyes wide, looking for the attack. Sirius, for his part, looked equally stunned to see him standing there. He was wrapped from the waist down in a large plum coloured blanket, which trailed around his legs and puddled at his feet. Apart from the blanket, he appeared to be completely nude. Remus looked over his shoulder, and found that he was being subjected to cool stares down some of the finest noses in Rome. He recognized the older woman from the previous afternoon, who did not appear to have developed a sense of humour since last he'd seen her. The girl who had apparated in to warn them about Fenrir was staring at Remus with wide eyes, a hand clapped over her mouth. Next to her stood a great burly man, his fine beard braided down to his chest. Remus had not seen him before. But just behind his left shoulder, he could see the heavy, disdainful eyes which had sneered at him as he'd lain in the dirt. Her mouth was twisted in disgust.

"Aw," she said in a voice that dripped with disdain. "What a sweet little dog, cousin Sirius."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some days, you write three chapters. Others, you work for nine hours and nearly fall asleep on the trip home. I've had one of the latter today, and as a result this is a shorter chapter. I promise there is more to come tomorrow!
> 
> Let me know what you think, feedback is incredibly welcome!


	10. Chapter 10

Sirius had expected a couple of things to happen when he swept out of the room. He expected his mother to yell and curse, for example. He expected Bellatrix to be irritating, and Andromeda to try to diffuse the situation. He expected his uncle to get all growly and intimidating, as was his wont to do. He had expected, and in fact desired, to slip through the door, lock it, hex it against intruders, and then get back into bed with Remus, perhaps wake him up for breakfast, either following or followed by some fondling.

He had not anticipated opening the door to find Remus, sweetly rumpled from sleep, brandishing a chicken leg.

"What is the meaning of all this?" 

Sirius flinched at his uncle's voice. He turned slowly to face Orion, mind racing for an explanation, but his brain offered up no suggestions.

"We-ell..." he said, stalling. His mother looked livid. Andromeda was watching the scene through her fingers. Bellatrix looked irritatingly smug, and before Sirius could think of something to say, she spoke.

"That is Sirius's werewolf, father. The one who almost killed Aldous in the ring yesterday. Sirius thought he could put him to good use here," she said brightly, a shining example of the perfect child. Sirius loathed her. He rolled his eyes and rubbed a hand over his face. Then he turned back to Remus, who was still staring at everyone. His eyes were huge, his mouth a perfect little "o" of surprise, and he was clutching that chicken leg in the way Sirius had seen wizards clutch their wands before an attack. Sirius felt a grin spreading slowly across his face. Suddenly, it was all too silly. A werewolf. A damned werewolf. Teeth, claw, death on four legs. 

And he was going to defend himself with breakfast. 

Sirius shook his head at the werewolf, laughing. He took him by the hand, and led him into the room. 

"My apologies, I've been dreadfully rude," he said, still smiling. "This is my mother, Walburga Black. The man next to her is my uncle, Orion Black. That's Andromeda, you met her yesterday, and Bellatrix, my cousin, and, I think, my fiancee." He smirked at the look of distaste on Bellatrix's face. "There's also Narcissa, though she isn't here at the moment, I'll have to introduce you later. Everyone, this is Remus Lupin. He is a werewolf, he is my chosen companion, and last night I came in his mouth." 

He paused again, still smiling. Remus let out a sound like a wheeze beside him, and began coughing. Sirius patted him on the back without looking at him. "We were just about to have breakfast. You're welcome to join us, though I should warn you, as soon as we run out of wine, I'm going to have my wicked way with my werewolf on every piece of furniture in that room. Shall I get a few more chairs?" 

There was a heavy silence for a few moments as Sirius's words sunk in. Then, Orion clapped his hands onto his daughters shoulders, looking furious and a little bit green. He turned sharply to Walburga and spoke through thin lips.

"We will talk about this, Walburga." Not sparing another glance for his nephew, he steered his daughters out of the room. Bellatrix had an expression of vindictive triumph; Andromeda looked a bit stunned. As the door slammed shut behind them, Sirius turned with a smile to face his mother. Before he had completed the motion, her arm swung around, and she slapped him so hard that he fell onto one knee. Sirius looked up at her, tears in his eyes. She towered over him like a column of marble, her face quivering with so much hatred that Sirius found it hard to look at her. But he held her eye, unwilling to show weakness in the face of her fury. She didn't say another word, but disapparated. The second loud snap in five seconds. The sound made Sirius's head ache. It was almost satisfying; all his life he had been able to say that Walburga, for all her atrocious parenting, had never struck any of her children. It gave Sirius a sick sort of satisfaction to know that he had taken that away from her.

A hand on his shoulder made him turn. Remus was looking down at him cautiously, his face extremely pale. Sirius sighed, readying himself for criticism, or worse, words of empty sympathy delivered in a halting whisper with much head shaking and cheery reassurances. Remus blinked down at him slowly.

"What do you need?" he asked. Sirius snapped his eyes up to the wolf, his face hard, feeling emotion roar up inside of him. Remus looked solemn, but he also looked completely prepared to act, do move, to do whatever was required of him. Sirius held his breath to keep the emotions at bay. Remus was just gazing at him, not blaming him, not simpering on about how things were bound to get better. He stood, quiet, a little grim, offering more support than Sirius had ever experienced. Sirius cleared his throat and looked away, climbing back up to his feet.

"C'mon, let's eat," he muttered, and pushed by Remus without looking at him. He heard the door shut behind him, dropped his wand on the little table, and flopped into a chair, reaching for a plate. He was soon stuffing his face, not even really registering what it was he was eating. He didn't look at Remus when he joined him at the table. Remus didn't say anything, just poured them both a drink. They ate for a while in silence, Sirius not ready to talk, Remus not looking to push him. Though his face still stung, Sirius felt himself becoming more steady. It was exactly what he needed.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☾ ☆ ☆ ☆

Remus ate slowly, and tried not to look at Sirius. The events of the morning kept repeating in his mind. The sight of Sirius in the doorway. The sneers of his family. The moment when Sirius had just stared at him, grinning like mad. The feeling of his warm hand as he'd led Remus into his bedchamber. The look of fury on Orion Black's face. The sharp slap that had echoed through the room. The shift of weight as Sirius had dropped to the floor. The way Remus's stomach had dropped, his blood suddenly cold, as he looked down at this ridiculous young man, so bold, so shocking, with a hand print etched onto his cheek. The look in Sirius's eyes as he'd looked up at Remus.

But guilt clawed at Remus, as all of this was overshadowed in his mind. The shock, the aggression, all dimmed in comparison to the moment when Sirius had held his hand and called him his werewolf.

His werewolf.

Remus shook his head lightly and pushed his plate away. It shouldn't have affected him in that way. It was just words. Words clearly meant to get a rise from the rest of the Black family. And they had succeeded. Remus chanced a glance at Sirius; he was pushing a grape around his plate, clearly distracted. He looked sullen. Unhappy. Remus frowned. He wanted to help, but he had no idea what to do, and Sirius had not seemed willing to offer suggestions. So, with a small shrug, he did the only thing he knew to do with someone in a foul mood. Distract.

Sirius had dropped his wand onto the table, and Remus now picked it up. Sirius didn't seem to notice. Remus chewed on the inside of his cheek thoughtfully as he stared at the wand. It had been a long time since he'd last used one. He probed his memory for a spell, though only one came to mind. He cleared his throat and pointed the wand straight up in the air.

"Aquamenti," he said, and immediately regretted it. Water came spurting out of the tip of the wand, shot straight into the air, and then fell down heavily, soaking Sirius and Remus and raining onto the table. Sirius gave a cry of surprise and pushed away from the table, though he pushed too aggressively, and, with a crash, fell to the ground. Remus dropped the wand with a shout, and the stream of water stopped as abruptly as it had started. Water dripped down from the ceiling like gentle rain, and Remus wiped the water from his forehead, astonished. He hadn't remembered the spell working quite like that. Sirius popped up with a roar from underneath the table.

"WHAT in ALL the HELLS WAS THAT?" he exclaimed madly, his hair plastered to his face so that Remus couldn't see his eyes. Water was flowing down his chin in little rivulets. He looked like a fish, gasping for water on land. Remus stammered helplessly.

"I-I'm sorry, I hadn't- I didn't--" Remus backed away from the table nervously. Sirius pushed the hair out of his eyes and stared at him, gobsmacked. The bowl of rolls fell with a soggy thud onto the floor. Sirius looked down at the mess, then back up at Remus, and his face split into a massive grin. He started laughing, a great, barking laugh that had Remus smiling, bewildered. Sirius leapt to his feet.

"You can do magic?!" he demanded, snatching up his wand and clearing away the mess with an expert wave.  
"I mean, I, um, sort of? I used to when I was a very young child, before, um, all of this," said Remus, gesturing vaguely at his scars. Sirius was just staring at him with this beaming look of amazement, so Remus started stuttering to fill the silence.  
"I haven't got any real training or anything, just, bits and pieces of what my older siblings and my parents told me, from when I was a child, and they let me use mum's wand sometimes before I got my own, if I was being watched, and they taught me a couple of spells, but I- I- I haven't attempted any magic since I was turned, when Fenrir-"  
"You've got a WAND?"  
Remus blinked. "Well, no, I used to have a wand. But when Fen- when I was turned, my wand was taken away from me. He broke it. He did that with all the magical children he took. Said he didn't want us getting ideas, forgetting who we were." 

Sirius began pacing excitedly. 

"So you're a wizard, as well as being a werewolf," he said. "You can do magic, but you haven't in ages, and you haven't got a wand. Correct?" Remus nodded mutely. Sirius clapped his hands together. "This is fascinating! I thought that all werewolves were mundane, I never thought that a wizard could be-" he trailed off, pointing wildly at Remus. Remus smiled a little, and bit his lip.

"Well, Fenrir preferred children, or mundane youths. A very young child from a magical family who had received the bite would never fully develop magical abilities. It's not clear why, something in the transformation seems to limit you in terms of your magical aptitude. It's been theorized that the change absorbs so much of your magical energy, that little remains for things like spell-work. I was a little older, but he wanted to turn me, and so he did. I haven't seen a magical child turned in a very long time," he added. Sirius nodded eagerly, and bounded over to Remus, his wand outstretched.

"What else do you know? Show me," he demanded. Remus blinked at him and took a half step away.  
"Oh no, I really don't think I could-"  
"Show me!" Sirius thrust the wand into Remus's hand, and stepped back, looking at him expectantly. Remus furrowed his brow, but started cycling through half-forgotten memories of his older brother practicing the art in their family home. He screwed up his face in concentration, and pointed the wand out in front of him, an image of fluttering yellow bodies zipping behind his eyelids.

"Avis," he said, and opened one eye. Nothing had happened. He deflated a little, lowering the wand. "I'm sorry, I don't-" he began, but Sirius rushed over to him, and stood behind him, adjusting his stance.  
"Legs wider apart, square your shoulders, and you need to move your arm like this." Sirius wrapped an arm around Remus's waist to steady him, and grasped his wand wrist. He raised Remus's arm, adjusting his grip on the wand. Remus cast a glance over his shoulder. Sirius had a look of intent focus in his eyes, and he was grinning eagerly. Remus felt a small wave of affection roll through him, and blinked hard, turning his eyes back to the wand.

"Now," said Sirius. "Try again, but say the incantation firmly! You've got the magic, you've got the wand, so you can make this happen, you just need to tell the wand what you want." Remus cleared his throat, and moved the wand jerkily.

"Avis!" he said. A small puff of yellow feathers poofed out of the wand, and Remus frowned, disappointed. But Sirius seemed thrilled.

"Amazing!" he exclaimed. "It took me hours to get feathers when I first tried this, that was excellent! Now, try again, like this." He jumped around to stand directly in front of Remus, standing almost on top of his feet. He grabbed Remus's hand. "You have to move the wand like this, ba-dum, ba-dum, just like that. Two little curves. Try again."

It took forty minutes, and a sackful of feathers. A few times Remus tried to pass the wand back to Sirius, but Sirius would just scoff, push it back into his hands, and tell him that he was capable.

"You asked me what I needed? I need to see a damn canary, alright? Now, you were closer that time, but your "a" is a little flat. It's a little too "eh". You need to really open your mouth, it's AW-viss. AW-viss. Now you." Remus sighed, exasperated, but bounced the wand through the air, and said, "AW-viss," in a loud, commanding tone. He had grown used to little or no reaction from the wand, so it caught him by surprise when a trio of fat little yellow birds came soaring out of the wand, chittering madly. Sirius let out a shout of approval.

"YES! You DID it, Remus!" he roared, bounding around the room after the birds trying to catch them. Remus laughed at the sight, holding the wand close to his chest. One of the birds twittered over his head, and he felt a rush of pride, bubbling up in his chest. His face hurt from smiling, and he just watched the little birds spinning through the air, as Sirius danced and WHOOPED in celebration. As Sirius went dancing by, Remus, made bold by the moment, grabbed his arm, and pulled him into a kiss, cutting off Sirius's cheer. Remus tasted his lips. He could feel stubble scratching gently against his chin, and smiled against Sirius's mouth. His fingers danced over Sirius's jaw and trailed down his neck, admiring how strong he felt under his hands. He pulled away, still smiling, and stared at Sirius's half-open eyes.

"Thank you," he said breathlessly. He moved to step away from Sirius, but Sirius caught him by the waist and pulled him, hard, crashing up against him. Remus lost his breath in the heat of Sirius's eyes, and Sirius smiled at him. Then he tilted Remus's face up, and kissed him again, deeply, with a tenderness that knocked Remus back onto his heels. There was none of the force that had been there yesterday, none of the drive from the night before. Just a kiss. A kiss for the sake of a kiss, from perfect, smiling lips. The birds circled around their heads as they moved against each other, until Sirius pulled away, looking warm and content in Remus's dazed eyes. 

"Show me more," murmured Sirius, and Remus felt his chest expand, certain that he must be glowing like the sun. He felt himself blush, and stepped away from Sirius uncertainly. Sirius frowned a little at him, but didn't stop him this time. Remus stared at Sirius, suddenly nervous. He had felt lust, he could explain away lust. But this...

This felt dangerous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for taking so long to post this, work has been absurd!
> 
> But here it is!
> 
> And just a note, I know that in the books, Remus was practically a toddler when he was turned, but in this AU he was not quite nine years old. Also, in this AU, there are no wizarding schools. Knowledge of spells and magic is passed down through the generations in the form of cautionary fables, poems, songs, etc. It's all very auditory, and very much something that families do together. When a child starts showing magical ability, the whole family basically surrounds that child to teach him/her how to control it. If a child is from a non-magical family, then their parents seek out a magical family and appeal to them to take the child in to learn from them, and to work for the lessons. In this way, the witches and wizards from non-magical backgrounds are always considered subservient to the pureblood families. Yes, this means that the non-magical (mundane) people know about magic. They interpret it as the gods giving gifts and abilities to select families, so it is seen as a blessing if a non-magical child suddenly develops magic, and don't shun them or consider them evil or anything like that. It really amplifies the class gaps in this society.
> 
> So that's the loose parameters of the world of this story. I probably should have outlined that earlier, my bad.
> 
> Also, just as an extra tidbit, I don't usually have a fan-cast or anything for the characters I write, I just sort of create them in my head as I go, but my Bellatrix is completely based on the way she is portrayed by Oddoo, which can be seen at asktheboywholived.tumblr.com. She is beautiful and sinister and twisty, and that is just how I see young Bellatrix in all universes now. Shout-out to Oddoo for being amazing, bless your cotton socks, you are so great!
> 
> I plan on posting a couple more chapters between tonight and tomorrow, so keep an eye out, and let me know what you think! :}


	11. Chapter 11

Something had changed. Something had made him recoil. Sirius stood very still, studying Remus intently. He had fully tensed up. His shoulders were rounded, his cheeks were a deep shade of pink, he was clinging to Sirius's wand so tightly that tiny blue sparks were issuing from the tip, not that he seemed to notice. Worst of all, he was actively not meeting Sirius's eye. His eyes were fixed firmly on ground level. Sirius frowned. Then he looked away and coughed.

"Well, I didn't think I was as bad as all that," he said. He glanced back at Remus. He had lifted his chin as if to say something, but he appeared to think better of it. He was shaking his head, still frowning at the floor. Sirius huffed irritably, and ran a hand through his hair. In the silence which stretched on between them, a canary zoomed around Sirius in a dizzying circle, lost control, and sped off into a corner of the room. A moment later, there was a thump and a "TWEEP!" as it ricocheted off the wall. Remus cleared his throat.

"I should, um..." he trailed off uncertainly. He kept shifting his weight, looking for all the world as though he was about to take off at a run. Sirius rolled his eyes, quickly losing patience.

"You should look me in the eye, for starters," said Sirius sarcastically. Remus sighed, and lifted his eyes to stare at Sirius's mouth. Sirius arched a brow. "Well, that's a start, anyway." Remus smiled. It wasn't a big smile, it wasn't a happy smile, but it was a wry little smile, and Sirius felt himself unclench a little. He strode over to the bed and flopped down, eyeing Remus inquisitively.

"What happened there, Lupin?" he asked in a practiced drawl. "I've never seen someone dry up that quickly. You should have seen yourself, it was horrifying." He patted a spot on the bed next to him. Remus rolled his eyes with a short, huffing sigh in the face of such entitlement, but, dragging his feet, he trudged over to Sirius.

"Am I not allowed to stop kissing you, Black?" he asked drily. "I'm amazed that such an uncommonly large ego could be so easily damaged."

Sirius laughed heartily, relieved that the cloud had passed. He watched Remus sit down, and rolled his head over to one shoulder, allowing his eyes to roam freely over Remus's cheekbones, lips, neck, shoulders... Lower... He smiled contentedly.

"Are all werewolves like you?" he asked. Remus snorted, and cocked his head, narrowing his eyes at the young man next to him.  
"Are all highborn wizards like you?" he replied, leaning back on his elbows. "No, not all werewolves are like me."  
"Alright, no need to get sarcastic now, I was just asking," said Sirius mildly. He smacked his lips thoughtfully and shifted his weight, wriggling in his spot as if to get more comfortable. When his thigh collided with Remus's, he settled down, ignoring the exasperated look that was thrown at him. He stretched luxuriously, giving a deep rumbly groan of satisfaction as his elbows popped and his fingers cracked. If his hand landed back on the bed, nearly on top of the hand that was already occupying the spot, well, where was the harm in that? He smiled serenely at Remus, who was fighting back a smile himself. They settled into an easy, companionable silence, Sirius occasionally sliding his pinky over Remus's, and watching out of the corner of his eye as he blushed. They watched the two remaining canaries, who pecked happily away at the remains of their breakfast and watched them back. When the world seemed to have shifted back to more comfortable territory, Sirius spoke again.

"You don't have to stay here, you know, Lupin."

He was aware of Remus shifting to look at him, but he didn't acknowledge it.

"I understand that I brought you here without sharing the particulars of my plan. I was not honest with you, and I should have been. It wouldn't surprise me if you wanted to leave, go back to wherever home is. I'd let you, if you asked me." He paused, chewing back the desire to ask him to stay. 

☆ ☆ ☆ ☾ ☆ ☆ ☆

Time slowed to a standstill. Remus realized that he had completely frozen, and took in a long, deep, shuddering breath. He found that he could not look at Sirius. He stared around the room instead, finding the shadow faces in the folds of the wall hangings across from him, thinking hard.

He was being offered his freedom. He could hardly believe it. After all that had happened, it was simple, now, as asking Sirius to transport him... Well. He had no home, not anymore. His family was lost to him. He had no friends to speak of, outside of the pack. But, here, wasn't this an opportunity to start over? Start fresh? He could go anywhere he wanted to.

He'd never have to hear Fenrir's voice again.

That thought alone had his heart pounding painfully in his chest. The monster who had haunted his dreams since he was a child could be an entire world away in a moment. And yet...

He glanced at Sirius. He was staring stonily at the floor, his face as carefully blank as it had been after his mother had slapped him. Remus bit his lip, frowning. He couldn't leave, could he? Not when there was so much left to do. His people were locked away in a cellar too cramped to stand in, even if their chains had made standing an option. He couldn't leave them. If the wizards didn't finish them off, he had little doubt that Fenrir would. The beast, he knew, liked to pick favourites to play with when he got bored. He would find a way to hurt them, again and again. Remus had to help, had to stop the cycle. 

And, a twisty little voice in his mind whispered that it might sting more than he let on, the thought of leaving this wizard behind.

Remus swallowed hard, trying to find the right words. 

"Sirius, I-" he broke off, struggling. Sirius sighed.

"Don't worry, I understand." And then he was standing. He was on his feet, looking down at the bed. "We can leave in ten minutes. It'll take me that long to arrange transport, and a bag for you." Remus blinked, and found his voice.  
"A bag?" he repeated weakly. Sirius frowned at the floor.  
"Yes, of course a bag, you think I'm letting you leave without food, clothing? Don't be stupid, you've got less than nothing, a bag is the least-" but he was cut off. Remus had stood on legs that wouldn't stop trembling, and he reached for Sirius, taking his face in his hands. He looked into those cool green eyes as he caressed his cheek with his thumb. Remus smiled; then he pressed his lips lightly to Sirius's in a brief, affectionate kiss.

"I'd rather stay, if it's all the same to you," he said. Sirius was blinking up at him, and he looked so sincerely confused, so unbelievably pretty, that Remus didn't try to contain his smile. He felt Sirius's breath go out of his body.

"You're staying?"  
"If that's still an option, I would prefer it," he said with a small shrug. Then he released Sirius and walked away to check the state of the table. "Now, I don't know about you, but I've had a trying morning, I'd like a spot of lunch, I think." He turned to Sirius, and ducked just in time to miss the squashy green pillow, which cartwheeled through the air and thwapped into the wall. He straightened, laughing, as Sirius stamped over to him, scowling. His laughter was lost in a flurry of kisses, and he ignored his feelings, the little warning sign that his heart was flourishing. Those worries could come later. For the moment, he simply wished to wrap himself around Sirius, the egoist with the kind eyes. 

And so he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Decisions have been made, Remus is staying, nobody has ulterior motives, all is right with the world!
> 
>  
> 
> ...she said, lying through her damn teeth.  
> Let me know what you think, thank you for reading!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapter that has bumped me up from "mature" to "explicit".
> 
> Brace yourself.

Sirius hummed cheerfully against Remus's jaw. The sun in the miniature sky was beating down on him, making him feel so lovely and toasty and heightening the thrill he got from Remus's cool skin. He slid his hands slowly under Remus's tunic, tracing light circles on the backs of his thighs. Remus shivered in his arms, and Sirius felt his blood quicken with excitement. But he took a deep breath, determined to go slowly. He wanted no further interruptions. He had no patience for distractions. All he wanted was Remus, shuddering against him, dripping with pleasure. But he had to be careful. He had to get Remus there without allowing him to spook at the intensity of what he planned. 

Luckily, it was a challenge that he was eager to undertake. 

Gently, gingerly, he trailed his hands up Remus's sides, reveling in the perfection of his shape. His fingers curled across the strong torso, which contracted under his teasing administrations. Sirius pressed his hips slowly into the other man's as his nails rasped over shoulder blades. He lifted Remus's arms to drape over his shoulders before ghosting his fingertips back down over the arms, ribs, and Remus arched sharply into him. All the while, Sirius tasted his mouth, swirling his tongue against Remus's, sinking his teeth into a soft bottom lip. Remus was making the most delicious noises, rolling into his body with increasing need. Sirius kissed him deeply; his head was spinning, he was crashing out of control, dizzy with lust. With shaking fingers he pulled at Remus's tunic til it tore away, leaving Remus bare to the hips, and Sirius was making quick work of his breeches. He felt Remus rock his pelvis against Sirius's hand as he struggled with the closures, and Sirius let out a halting breath as he felt Remus's obvious arousal press into his thigh. He growled low in his throat, and moved quickly, pushing Remus backward to the bed until he collided with it and fell back. Sirius made quick work of his own clothes, adrenaline pulsing through him as he took in the glow in Remus's eye. There was no nervousness now, only certainty. There would be no interruptions now. Sirius threw his clothing to the ground, and watched Remus breathlessly as his eyes traveled over his body. Sirius was panting now. His skin came alive in the light of Remus's gaze. 

"Take them off," he said, and Remus pushed his breeches down over his hips till they could slide freely to the ground. Now it was time for Sirius to feast his eyes. Wide shoulders that tapered to a narrow waist, that flared out into smooth hips. His skin was a perfect, even brown, and Sirius bit his lip at the sudden image of Remus, spread on the grass under a mirror-blue sky. Those firm thighs, the slender hips, and, heavy on his stomach, the most beautiful cock Sirius had ever seen. Long, thick, lightly veined... perfect. Sirius was practically salivating, and his hands clenched, longing touch the soft skin, to follow the trailing scars that dashed across his body. He met Remus's eye, pleased by the blush in his cheek. He licked his lips slowly and trailed a hand over his own torso, dipping toward his own pulsing erection. Remus watched the motion hungrily, his breath stilling. Sirius ran his tongue over his teeth.

"You like to look at me, don't you, Lupin?" he said. Remus's eyes darted back up to meet Sirius's gaze. He swallowed, and nodded. Sirius grinned.

"Do you think I'm pretty?" he asked coyly, sliding the hand over his chest tantalizingly. Remus nodded again, and Sirius could see the pulse dancing through him as clearly as a bolt of lightening, sparking under his skin. His tongue darted out to wet his lips.

"You'd like to touch me, wouldn't you?" Another quick jerk of the head, and Remus was curling his fingers, gripping the sheets. Sirius took a slow step toward him, watching closely, gauging his reaction. Sirius bent over him, letting his hands roam free as he kissed Remus again. He pushed Remus back against the bed as he started to curl up from the mattress, trying to meet Sirius, trying to touch him back. 

"Stay still," murmured Sirius. "You took care of me last night. It's my turn now." And he bent back over Remus, sliding his teeth against the sensitive skin under his ear. Remus hissed, and grabbed the hands that held him down. Sirius smiled and nuzzled against Remus's shoulder. He moved down Remus's body, touching, tasting, never lingering, until Remus was writhing on the bed. Sirius fell to his knees between Remus's legs as his nimble fingers sought out each point of pleasure on Remus's body, responding to each moan with a kiss and a murmur of encouragement. He gazed up at Remus from the ground, moving his fingers up his legs, feeling the place where hip became pelvis. He kissed a line up his inner thigh, and grazed his hip socket with his teeth. He teased his way across Remus's body until he heard the gasps become more frantic, melting into words.

"Please, Sirius," said Remus, and Sirius could hear that his teeth were gritted in frustration. With a wide grin on his lips, Sirius turned his attentions to the place where Remus really craved them. He pressed his lips to the head of his cock, and was immediately rewarded with a sharp gasp. He navigated through the fog of his own lust, moving against Remus with all the skill he possessed. With one hand, he grasped Remus's shaft, pumping it once, twice, slowly, controlled. His other hand felt the curve of Remus's buttocks, enjoying the way the muscles clenched as Remus pumped against his tongue. He readjusted, and slid his fingers with intent, until he was pressed against Remus's entrance. Immediately, the werewolf tensed, and Sirius paused, holding his breath. Slowly, gently, he caressed him, listening for the changes in Remus's breathing, now shallow, now deep. His clever tongue began its dance again, and soon Remus was arching into him.

"I- I-" he said, his voice a harsh whisper. Sirius hummed encouragingly, and he straightened, until he could see Remus's face. He was dark, flushed, and his brow was shining.  
"I want..." he murmured, rolling his head on the mattress. Sirius chuckled, and Remus's eyes snapped open. Sirius felt his breath catch at the ferocity with which Remus stared.

"You want?" he said, his voice dark in his own ears, his hands continuing their push and pull against the sensitive skin. Remus snarled.

"I want to be inside of you," he said in a voice that Sirius had not heard before. It gripped beneath his solar plexus and made the skin on the back of his neck itch. He licked his lips, clinging to the last inch of control in him.

"You want to fuck me?" he said, a challenge clear in his voice. Remus nodded once, and smiled dangerously.  
"I want to fuck you, Sirius," he said, and bit his lip. Sirius breathed in raggedly, and nodded. 

"Yes," he said. It was all he could say, a short syllable of consent. And then he was on the ground. Remus had moved so quickly that Sirius had barely been able to track it. He closed his eyes, shivering. Light flashed behind his eyes. Remus was all hands, hands that roamed and gripped, and were frantically trying to move Sirius's body. Sirius caught on, and rolled onto his stomach, pushing himself onto his hands eagerly. Hands gripped his hips, so close to being too tight, and he was panting, desperate now. Strong fingers were kneading into his flesh, following a familiar pattern, but he gasped, shocked, as he felt Remus's tongue follow the searing trail. He moaned once, twice, and arched his back against the heat of Remus's mouth, overwhelmed by sensation. Tongue was replaced by quick, pressing fingers, which were in turn replaced with something much more substantial. Remus pushed, Sirius pushed back, and then they were moving as one. An inhuman noise escaped Remus as Sirius rolled his hips back against him. Sirius was sweating, swearing, he could feel Remus everywhere, rocking into him with such force that he could feel him in his throat. It was too much for any one body to bear, too much, but he craved it, he needed it. He whimpered, breath leaving his body in great, uneven gasps. He ached, he wanted more, more, oh god, please, more...

He felt Remus stiffen behind him a moment before he heard the unmistakable cry of release, a harsh sound that echoed through the room. Remus gave another thrust, and another, and clung to Sirius's hips as though he feared being carried away, and the heat of the moment finally crashed into Sirius, rocking through his body with such momentum that his arms gave out and Remus had to catch him. He allowed himself to go limp in Remus's arms as the world spun around them. Only when the world paused, and their breathing aligned, did Sirius open his eyes. Remus's head had fallen forward onto Sirius's shoulder, and his deep, steady breathing tickled Sirius's ear. Shifting slowly, Sirius pulled himself from the tangle of their bodies, laying out on the plush rug, enjoying the pulse that he could feel through his entire body. He should be taking care of Remus now, he knew, making sure he was alright, but his muscles were heavy, and he couldn't keep his eyes open. He moistened his lips and tried to clear his throat.

"You okay?" he said, his voice echoing strangely in his ears. Remus didn't respond, but tipped over onto the rug, sprawling next to him, with a sigh of great contentment. Sirius laughed soundlessly. He supposed that was an affirmative. He moved his hand across the floor till it met skin, and in another moment, the room was full of the deep, even breathing of the two men who lay on the floor, sated, their joined hands connecting them in sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took me the longest that any chapter has yet. I enjoyed every minute of it.
> 
> Let me know if you liked it, too!


	13. Chapter 13

Remus rose slowly back to consciousness and found that he was, once again, not where he expected to be. He'd had the shock of a new day starting in a stately bed, which his mind had quickly accepted as the way things would be from now on. Now, groggy from his brief nap, he was surprised to find that he was nestled down on the floor, cozy on a soft rug. As Sirius shifted next to him, all that had passed an hour earlier flashed through his mind, bringing immediate heat to Remus's cheeks, but he remained puzzled. He understood what they had done, but it hadn't registered in his mind that they'd been on the floor, rutting like animals in heat.

A thought like that would have brought him incredible shame, once. Now, it simply made him smile.

Remus yawned, and very gently extricated his arm, which was tucked beneath Sirius's head. Sirius twitched hard as he was shifted, and Remus froze, but the twitch was followed by a resounding snore and a hearty smacking of lips. Then Sirius rolled onto his back, and continued his slumber. Remus shook his head with a tiny smile as he watched the wizard. His face was relaxed in sleep, and he looked quite peaceful. It occurred to Remus that he had not seen Sirius when he wasn't in motion. He was always smirking, or fiddling with his hair, or leaning on things... It was remarkable. Remus had never before met a person who could turn a simple lean into a predatory action. However, when he slept, Sirius looked quite the picture of a healthy young nobleman. Generous lips parted slightly, long lashes brushing against the fine cheekbones, the chest rising and falling with slow even breaths as he sprawled across three rugs... He somehow managed to give an air of entitlement even when completely at rest, Remus thought, though he thought it without venom. Still smiling lightly, he stretched, enjoying the gentle ache in his muscles, and rolled up onto his feet, feeling quite desperate for a bath.

At the first touch of water, Remus sighed happily, his hot skin immediately soothed. He submerged himself fully and looked up beyond the surface to the gathering clouds in his sky. Judging from the light, it must be past midday, he thought with a tiny frown. So much of the day had been lost. But as he rolled against a knot in his neck he thought that, though it hadn't been a part of his plan for the day, he didn't regret the way he'd spent the morning. He broke the surface of the water with his eyes shut and his mind pointing behind him to a couple of hours ago, where he'd been, what he'd done. In fairness, he'd not had many sexual partners. But Sirius was- 

Well. None of them had been quite like him. 

Not that it changed things, of course. He still had a job to do.

Remus chewed on his lip as he climbed out of the pool, his body refreshed, but his mind a snarl of loud, thorny thoughts. If he had his druthers, he'd leave immediately, do what needed to be done, and hang all the consequences. But he needed Sirius, he knew that he did. He cast a glance back at Sirius who was still snoring and sprawled, the cloud-filtered light sliding over his body like a shroud. Remus frowned. The wave of repressed emotion was beating against his ribcage, for all he tried to ignore it. He desired Sirius, but he also felt a great deal of friendly affection for him. That combination was a dangerous one. As he understood it, that was the combination which often led to l-

It was ridiculous to even think about it. He shook his head, sending droplets of water flying through the air. He regretted hurting Sirius. But Sirius was a grown man, and he would be able to take care of himself. Remus had responsibilities to his people. Romulus wouldn't want to see him so befuddled by one who saw the way the werewolves were treated, and do nothing to stop it. 

That was a sobering thought; how would Romulus feel about the entire sordid situation? It would certainly cause him great displeasure to see his friend, his right hand man, not merely locked away by the wizards, but to be kept like a whore in a room whose primary function was to be easily accessed at any time the wizard in question saw fit? Remus scowled. It would not do. The plan would be followed. He nodded firmly to himself, and moved back to Sirius's side. Doing his best to keep from looking at him, Remus curled up on his side, his leg curving around Sirius's own. He could do this. This was doable. This was eas-

Sirius started in his sleep, and rolled violently onto his side, one arm flinging out with the momentum, and landing over Remus's side with enough force to knock the breath out of him. Sirius curled tightly around Remus, nuzzling into his still-damp hair, and making small sounds of displeasure. Remus sighed, and began wiggling around till he was facing Sirius. Slowly, taking care not to disturb him more than he was already disturbing himself, Remus tucked Sirius's head underneath his chin. Sirius responded immediately, nuzzling lightly against Remus's throat and pulling him in closer. Remus was just trying to decide what to do with his arms when Sirius gave a deep, grunting snore that vibrated against Remus's collarbones. Remus bit his lip hard, shaking a little with laughter. With a smile and a sigh, he bundled Sirius up closer till their bare bodies were entwined. His breath ruffled the dark curls that rested just beneath his nose. Sirius made a noise, a sound that was not far from being a coo, and burrowed his nose into the hollow of Remus's throat. Remus took a deep breath, and shut his eyes.

Right. Easy.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☽ ☆ ☆ ☆

Sirius awoke with a snort from a dream that was already escaping his memory. He smacked his lips, frowning. He was dehydrated. He was dehydrated, and he was sweating, which always bothered him greatly. It seemed so counter productive.

With a dramatic groan, he rolled onto his back. This was not a well-planned move; Remus's arm was still flung over him, and as a result, the werewolf was dragged halfway on top of him. Sirius blinked madly for a moment underneath Remus's armpit before a confused mumble from above let him know that Remus was awake. A moment later, Remus had flung himself back onto his rump, using Sirus's face to push off. Sirius grunted and sat up, massaging his ill-treated cheek. He squinted at Remus through bleary eyes. 

He was blushing.

What a surprise.

Sirius groaned again and rose on unsteady legs. He grinned as the memory of why they were unsteady bloomed up in his mind's eye. Then he tottered off, rather shakily, to his own rooms to freshen up. When he returned ten minutes later, wrapped in a fresh tunic and levitating a large jug of water before him, Remus had moved onto his bed. He sat there, cross-legged, dressed, and squeezing a pillow to his chest. He looked rather insular, so Sirius shrugged, and went about his business, drinking about three quarters of the water, and foraging on the table for the bits of food that the birds hadn't got to. As an afterthought he piled some fruit and bread onto a plate, filled a goblet with some water, and shuffled over to the bed, holding it directly in Remus's face. He heard Remus chuckle, but didn't look at him till he felt fingertips brushing his as the plate was accepted. He looked down at Remus, painted golden in sunlight of late afternoon, and smiled at him with genuine fondness. He shook his head, and wandered away again, happy to give as much time and space as was needed. He had just sat at the table, prodding at a quail with his wand till it was steaming again, when he heard a soft cough behind him.

"What am I to do when I am here?" The tone was a touch too casual, and Sirius paused, considering. After a moment, he smirked over his shoulder.

"Had I not made that clear?" he asked, light and flirtatious. He smiled as Remus hiccuped, and continued preparing his plate as he waited for Remus to collect his thoughts. 

"I'd imagine that, come a certain point, even you would grow tired of that." 

"Well, I'll forgive you for that as we haven't known each other long," he replied. He turned to face Remus, pleased to see that a wide smile had cracked his sweet, solemn face. He cracked his neck, and raised the goblet to his lips.  
"What did you have in mind?" Remus shrugged, looking down at his hands; Sirius gazed at him, waiting.

"Am I to be locked up in here all the time?" He asked the question in a small voice, almost meek. Sirius frowned and ran a hand through his hair.

"Locked is a strong word for it," he muttered. "It is not my intention to lock you anywhere, Lupin. You're free to do what you like as long as you're here, just as long as..." he trailed off, frowning at his knees.  
"As long as I am properly supervised?" Remus supplied gently. "I'm not labouring under any illusion that I am a guest here, Black. I know what I am, and I know that I am a threat to you and your family. I just want to know what I am allowed to do." 

Sirius scowled, still not looking at him. If he had been asked to, he would not have been able to pinpoint the source of his annoyance. Perhaps the way that Remus so casually reiterated the difference between them, lumping them into breeds. Or perhaps it was the way that he spoke of being imprisoned, as if it were nothing. Did he not recognize that Sirius had rescued him from imprisonment? That Sirius had brought him here, at great personal expense, to be protected? He sniffed hard, and tried to rearrange his expression into something more accommodating.

"What is it that you would like to do?" he asked. 

The silence lasted a moment too long. Remus was still staring at his lap, his expression thoughtful, pondering, but there was something in the tightness of his lips. Sirius squinted at him. He had the air of a man who was trying to find words that were already caught between his teeth, chewing away at his thoughts, stalling for time. A moment before Sirius opened his mouth, prepared to quip, Remus looked up, radiating innocence.

"I want to go visit the werewolves," he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am genuinely sorry that I've been posting so much more slowly. I hope that you are all still enjoying this, I'm still having a great time writing it. Thoughts, feelings, opinions, all welcome!


	14. Chapter 14

Sirius was sitting very still, gazing steadily at Remus. For a moment, Remus wondered if he'd spoke too softly, if somehow Sirius had missed it. He cleared his throat, and ran his tongue over his dry lips.

"I said-"  
"I heard what you said, Lupin," said Sirius in a slow, measured voice. "You want to see the werewolves." Remus bit his lip and nodded, trying to keep his expression calm. Sirius's face was smooth as and impassive as stone. He stood and began a slow saunter across the room. Remus straightened as he watched Sirius approach, trying to convince his pulse to relinquish its grip on his throat. 

"I would like you to tell me why," said Sirius, after a tense moment. As he spoke, he climbed up onto the bed, flopping down across the blankets and landing with his head in Remus's lap. Remus frowned, looking down into those sweet, squinting eyes, which gazed at him with great disapproval. Remus smiled, shrugged, and started running his fingers through Sirius's hair.

"They are my people, Black," he said gently. "I've lived with them, changed with them... They're my family. And now they likely think I'm dead. It may not give them much comfort to know that I'm alive, and here with you, but I owe it to them to tell them." As he spoke, he twisted the dark curls into a braid, his fingers moving reflexively to the memory of a different, smaller head of long sandy hair, and laughter in a forest glen. Remus smiled sadly. "In the pack, we favour loyalty, and are trained to respect our place in the family," he said. He spoke the words reminiscently, almost without thinking, so he was surprised when he felt Sirius stiffen in his lap. 

"You do, do you?" he muttered, sitting up and running his nails over his scalp, shaking himself free of the plaits. "Well, thank you for explaining that to me. Loyalty is such a foreign concept to us wizard scum." 

Remus blinked, frowned, and shook his head. "I didn't mean-"

"So I ought to let you go back to the pack, then? Let you visit the family, share war stories with the old comrades, talk about the good old days, when wolves roamed free and wizards stayed in their cesspools and allowed themselves to be hunted?" He scoffed, shaking his head. "Do you take me for a complete idiot, Lupin?" Remus huffed.

"I don't suppose it would do any good if I told you that you were being absurdly dramatic?" he said. "I meant no snub against you, Black. I was merely stating- I just-" He huffed, suddenly cross, all his words failing him. "This is just the way I am. I don't think you take it seriously, you don't fully understand."

"Right, well, I am quite dim, so it's good of you to tell me. Thank the gods for your wise words, what would I have done without them." 

Remus threw his hands in the air, exasperated. Sirius, pulling a grotesque face, flounced off of the bed and stomped back over to the table. They sat that way for a time, on opposite sides of the room, both staring obstinately at the ceiling. Remus glared over at Sirius, who had his arms folded tightly and his head lifted almost comically high. Remus huffed, and wiped a hand over his face with a shake of his head.

"Have you ever known a werewolf?" he demanded. Sirius snorted.

"No, Lupin, I haven't ever known a werewolf," he grumbled.

"Have you ever seen a pack of werewolves?"

"No, I haven't."

"Have you ever seen a werewolf during a change?"

"...No." It was Remus's turn to snort. The snort didn't feel sufficient to express his indignation, so he followed it up with a roll of his eyes so wild that it made him dizzy.

"Well, pardon me for saying so, but I think you've entered into this arrangement rather blindly, and I don't think that your attitude is at all warranted," he said. Sirius glared at him over his shoulder, practically sneering, though there was humour glinting deep in his eye.

"Tell me then, Lupin. What am I supposed to gain by letting you go visiting with the family? Do you suppose I'll come away enlightened, ready to romp through the trees with the brethren?" 

Remus frowned at him, drumming his fingers absentmindedly against his leg. For all his snark, it seemed his anger had evaporated about as quickly as it'd come on. Remus gritted his teeth, trying to find his own way back to serenity. After a moment he slid down off of the bed and slowly moved over to sit across from Sirius. He leaned forward, keeping steady eye contact.

"Have you seen the place where my people are being held?" he asked. He was careful to keep any trace of accusation from his voice that may spark further emotion in Sirius; he could sense that his goal was there, just beyond the stretch of his fingertips. He just needed to find a point of leverage, and give it a push. He held his breath as Sirius frowned.

"I haven't," said Sirius. "Why would I have?" Remus let out his breath slowly, and shrugged.

"Are you not at all curious about the place you plucked me from?" he asked. He was pleased to see that Sirius's eyes slid from his, his face suddenly cloudy, disturbed. He was shaking his head, looking grim.

"I've heard what it's like there," he said. "Bellatrix, my cousin, she- Hm. I suppose you could say she has some fascination with the place. My uncle has had to speak to her on several occasions." He looked positively nauseated. Remus decided against asking for further details.

"I think that it would benefit you," he began slowly. "I think that, to see the conditions that my people are being held in, you might understand better where I come from. And I dare say it would leave you better prepared for what's to come with the full moon, to see a room full of us." Sirius scowled and shook his head, setting his shoulders.

"I wish you'd stop saying 'us' and 'my people' like that..." he muttered, staring at the floor. Remus opened his mouth to reply, but thought better of it, and waited.

After a few moments, Sirius stood, moving aggressively enough that he knocked his chair to the ground. He began pacing, occasionally throwing dark looks at Remus, who simply lowered his eyes and folded his hands in his lap. He bit the inside of his cheek in an attempt to keep his focus. He was surprised that his thoughts couldn't be heard for the sheer volume he was shouting them around the inside of his brain. 'Come on, come on, come on, come ON, COME ON-' He cleared his throat and bit down until he tasted blood. Finally, Sirius came to a halt in front of him.

"No," he said.

Remus's head snapped up, and he met Sirius's eye as a rasping snarl caught in his throat. Sirius shook his head firmly, holding his hands out in front of him.

"Lupin, I can't. Not right now," he said, frustrated. "The entirety of my family, the whole cursed house of Black, is currently looking for any opportunity to set the dogs on me. No offense. Going anywhere near the arena now would be as good as throwing my life away. I would sooner lay at my mother's feet with a dagger in my teeth." He scowled, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. Remus frowned at him, taken aback at the visible effort this confession seemed to cost him. Sirius caught the frown, and glared at him.

"And I wish you wouldn't look at me that way," he exclaimed. "As though this whole damned thing was my fault. I don't want a bunch of werewolves locked up, any more than you do. And I don't want YOU to be cooped up in here, I have no right to keep you away from them, I just-" he gave a great exasperated groan and sat down heavily, every line of his body twitching with frustration. "I'm helpless here. I'm helpless. Completely fucking helpless." 

Remus stared at him, waiting for more shouting, more arguments, more of that unbelievable pride to be hurled at him. None came. Sirius simply sat there, deflated and limp, a dark look on his face. He looked lost. 

Remus allowed time for a few deep breaths, then leaned forward, resting his hand on Sirius's knee. He squeezed lightly, until Sirius raised his head, peering at him through a curtain of hair.

"I don't blame you for this," said Remus quietly. "And I understand feeling helpless. It wasn't my intention to make you feel that way, I apologize." He waved a hand as Sirius straightened, looking immediately ready to argue. "Look, no, listen. I know you aren't accountable for the actions of your society, any more than I am for mine. It's just that..." He wrinkled his nose, struggling to find the right words.

"I just need to see them. I need to go to them. I wouldn't ask if it wasn't truly important to me, I promise you that. Please, Sirius."

His words hung in the air between them. He found that he couldn't quite meet Sirius's eye. He felt solid, wooden, the dread sitting heavy in his stomach. He had failed. He had failed before he'd even started, he was every bit the pathetic excuse for a wolf that he had always feared he was. They would all die, he was powerless to stop it. He swallowed hard, ashamed to find that his eyes were burning. He licked his lips, mind racing, needing to say something to make this moment end. 

"I know you said no, and I understand, so I'll-"

"I said not yet."

The words landed on his ears as Sirius's hand covered his own. His breath caught in his chest, hope rushing through his system so quickly that it made him jump. Slowly, he lifted his eyes. Sirius was gazing at him, his face inches away. He looked so concerned, so understanding, and the compassion in the tilt of his lips made Remus's skin tingle. Sirius took a deep breath.

"Give it a week," he said. "I can't take you before the full moon. Give me a week, just a week, just until some of this tension dies down." Remus blinked. His tongue felt numb, and it took a moment to remember how to speak.

"A week," he echoed. "And then you'll take me to the werewolves?"

Sirius nodded, and clasped Remus's hand tightly, drawing it to his chest in a solemn gesture. "I give you my word," he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you sense a werewolf tea party? Because I sense a werewolf tea party.
> 
> Thank you for reading, you all rock my world!


	15. Chapter 15

Moments passed slowly as Sirius sat with Remus's hand warm against his chest. Was he imagining it, or could he feel a pulse in the strong wrist, beating quickly in tandem with his own heart? His eyes swept over Remus. There was a soft blush to those cheeks, and his eyes were bright with such hope that it made Sirius's head spin. The werewolf looked so unbelievably pretty that Sirius simply had to kiss him. He pressed his lips first to Remus's knuckles, then to one high cheekbone, then to his own soft lips. He moved gently against Remus, hands brushing against his shoulders, fingers tracing the arch of his throat, and he slowly shifted until they were laying side by side. He pulled away and gazed at Remus. The flush was more pronounced beneath the long lashes, and those soft lips were parted, inviting. Remus opened his eyes and met Sirius's stare. 

Sirius blinked, stunned. In the center of those beautiful irises, like the glow in the heart of a fire, was a band of amber which Sirius had not seen before. His fingers slid along the back of Remus's hand absentmindedly as he stared on, entranced. The light in those eyes reached into his chest, found his heart, and pulled-

Remus blinked. Sirius felt his mouth snap shut, though he had not been aware that it was open. Brow furrowing, he rolled onto his side, so that his back was to Remus. They were quiet for a time as Sirius regained control over his heartbeat.

"Well?" he said at last. 

"Well what?" Sirius huffed, and threw a glance over his shoulder.

"I am stretched out here," he pointed out, trailing his hand over his torso. "I am deliciously exposed, and developing a chill." Remus snorted.

"And?" he replied, the smile clear in his voice.

"Oh don't be exhausting," Sirius grumbled, reaching behind him and fumbling blindly till he found Remus's arm. He tugged; the weight of a long body rolled into his back, and he felt Remus chuckle as his arm landed heavily across his waist. Warm breath tickled his ear.

"It's the middle of the day, Black," came the voice from behind him. Sirius shrugged, snuggling down into the blankets.

"Did you have plans for the rest of the day, love, because I rather doubt..." Sirius trailed off as he felt Remus stiffen behind him. Frowning lightly, he replayed the interaction in his mind, looking for a cause. 

"Love?" he repeated after a moment. Remus flinched against him. Sirius looked down at the hand that was now frozen against his stomach. He sighed irritably.

"Love, love, love," he muttered. "Will you jump every time I say it? I can imagine that will become tiring." Remus said nothing, and as the minutes ticked on, Sirius felt his eyelids begin to droop. He felt so remarkably cozy, wrapped in a cocoon of blankets and body heat. 

"Werewolves don't go in much for terms of endearment," said Remus. Sirius snorted, but didn't bother opening his eyes.

"Somehow, that does not surprise me," he said. The silence stretched on again, and Sirius shut his eyes more tightly in blatant denial of how uncomfortable it felt. He could feel Remus's breath hitching as the werewolf started, stopped, started, stopped, started to say what was on his mind, seeming to think better of it at the last moment. After the fourth false start, Sirius huffed and pulled a pillow over his face.

"I do wish you would just say it, get it over with," he said, his voice muffled by the feathers. He felt Remus sigh.

"It just isn't something that we say," he said in a rush. Sirius let the pillow fall to the floor and slowly rolled over to face Remus, who did not meet his gaze.

"You don't say 'love'?" Sirius demanded. The flinch was less pronounced this time, but still present. Remus aimed for a relaxed shrug and missed it by a mile.

"Well, we- That is to say, we, um," he stammered, clearly uncomfortable. Sirius listened to his attempt to form a sentence with a combination of mounting frustration, and reluctant affection.

"Now, just you listen here," he burst in, unable to hold back any longer. Remus finally lifted his eyes, sheepish. "I have just this moment agreed to do you a sizable favour, and I think you'll agree that it is being granted completely selflessly, and with great risk of personal damage to myself! Now, if I should want to call you 'love', I will! Furthermore I expect to be able to say the damned word without all of this fuss! Do you understand?" He finished, breathing heavily, fully expecting a soft response, big cow eyes tragically misty at this powerful display. So it came as an irritating surprise when Remus blinked at him incredulously before throwing his head back with a peal of laughter. Sirius scowled and hit Remus on the arm, which only served to make him laugh harder.

"Oh be quiet, you unbelievable bore," he muttered with a scowl, rolling onto his side once again. The arm wrapped around him once again, though it still jolted occasionally with hearty giggles. Sirius scoffed irritably. "I'll call you the damned love of my life if I should feel like it, and I expect you to respect my right to do so," he said.

At these words, the laughter came to an abrupt halt. Sirius counted slowly to five before he felt Remus remember to breathe, and he allowed himself a small, self-satisfied smile. He snuggled back down into the soft warmth of the blankets under the comforting weight of the arm slung across him, and, as his breath lined up with that of the sweet wolf curled around him, he felt his drowsiness return in full force. His eyes slowly shut, blocking out the light of the miniature mid-day sun, and was just on the edge of sleep as Remus began tracing gentle patterns on his skin. The room had taken on that soft, muted feel of a space about to be filled with little else than the sounds of deep breathing and the occasional snore, so Remus's words were easily missed in the cacophony of silence:

"Whatever makes you happy, dear," he said, pressing a gentle kiss to Sirius's head. And with that, curled around each other, the two smiled, and surrendered to the sweet seduction of an afternoon nap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my dears! I am so sorry for the delay, I hope this little slice of affection makes up for it. I promise I haven't forgotten about this fic, and it is my plan to get back into regular updates just as soon as I can! 
> 
> Much love, and please do let me know what you think. <3


	16. Chapter 16

Who taught the evergreens to be so tall?

They stretched high toward the sky, and their bristling branches painted the clouds black. Trunks as thick as houses clustered together and shaped a winding path through the murky woods. It felt hot, it felt wrong. The earth felt new and strange beneath his feet. Violets sprung up in thickets of grass, and the petals glistened like the dark eyes of a hundred spiders. A dull grey fog was creeping down the footpath, heavy and twitching like a living creature. Remus felt the skin on the back of his neck and inside of his wrists starting to prick, and he began backing away nervously. All of a sudden, pain shot through his legs. He looked down and, to his horror, watched in shock as each of the thin bones along the tops of his feet snapped, one after the other after the other. They fell like shards of glass, making way for thin, new, snaking bands of bone and sinew, knitting together at alarming speed. 

"It's too soon," he gasped as the pain made stars flash behind his eyes. "It's not time!"

He cried out as both of his knees broke backwards, puncturing the flesh of his calves. He collapsed in a pool of his own blood, and began crawling madly backward, as if to escape his own body. The exposed muscles and veins were rapidly thickening, hardening into a knot of scabs and scar tissue. Rivulets of blood flowed down over his new-grown claws. He spasmed; already the hot, trickling feeling was climbing up his torso like fire, the dense weight of pain in his head sharpening to a point. The fog reached him then, climbing over his lower half like a rabid beast. 

His first rib broke. Then his second. Remus's arms gave out under him, and he lay in the mud, gasping. 

He felt his diaphragm snap. 

He couldn't breathe.

His torso was ripping open from the inside. His shattered bones pierced his organs. Tears poured down his face and mingled with the sweat dripping from his tattered skin as he felt his stomach acid melting the bared flesh of his abdominal cavity. Then, the tongues of sharp fire licked up into his skull. Trapped there under the weight of something ancient and cruel, deafened by the sound of his joints popping and his fingers breaking and shifting with wet, sucking snaps, Remus felt the scar along his nose tear open like a seam. His nose was the first to break. It snapped inward, and the pressure of it sent his cheekbones cracking. His face was rearranging under what little skin remained. As the first hairs began crawling down his spine, thick as the needles on the trees above him, Remus felt his jaw break, the hinges falling apart at all the pressure, and he heard the unearthly rasping howl long before it registered that it had begun in his own ruined throat. He reared up from the ground on new legs, the fog billowing around him. The fog transformed the world, lengthening the shadows and sharpening the scents. It was the cool dark mist of night, a night lit by a glorious moon, and the wolf felt the thrills coursing through his fresh skin, and he turned a wet mouth to the sky--

"REMUS!"

Remus broke through the thin surface of sleep with a painful gasp. His open eyes readjusted to the fabric of reality, and he looked around in dismay.

Sweat was cooling on his hot, prickling skin. He was crouched on all fours on top of the bed. Sirius lay beneath him, holding a pillow like a shield, a look of pure terror in his eyes.

Remus's mouth fell open with a silent "Oh!" of alarm, and he tumbled backward off of the bed.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☽ ☆ ☆ ☆

Sirius took several deep slow breaths, trying to convince his heart that, in fact, everything was alright, and it could, in fact, stop leaping about like that at the earliest possible convenience. He licked his dry lips with an equally dry tongue, and wiped sweat that he wasn't sure was his out of his eyes. He lay there for a long while, clinging to the sheets for dear life. Once he was certain that his body wasn't going to shut down, if only to beat the threat to the kill, he sat up shakily, and crawled to the foot of the bed. He peered down cautiously, but Remus wasn't there. By the light of the small waxing moon, he guessed that it must be either very late, or appallingly early. Either way, what it was, without a doubt, was impossibly dark. Fumbling around, Sirius found his wand, and sent a ball of light into the air. He looked around, but Remus was nowhere in sight. Sirius wiped his face, and climbed out of the bed.

"Lupin?" he called, his voice sounding high and frightened even to his own ears. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Lupin, where are you?"

There came no reply. But Sirius became aware of a sound that was texturing the air. The sound of ragged breathing. Sirius took a deep breath and followed it, stumbling slightly over the pillows as he crossed the room. He traced the sound of Remus's breathing till at last he found him, clear across the large room, underneath the little table. Sirius sighed.

"Lupin," he began as he crouched down to look at him. "Lupin, what in all the Gods' names was that ab-" Sirius broke off as, at last, he saw Remus.

The man was pressed up against the wall, completely curled in on himself. His face was hidden in his hands, and every inch of his skin was slick with sweat. He was trembling. Sirius could hear the sound of his teeth grinding together. The sight made Sirius's throat close up; he had never seen a clearer picture of fear. He made to reach for the young man, but paused, uncertain, biting his lip. He felt cold all over with concern, with fear for Remus. He wanted to help him, but he didn't want to startle him any more than he already was. After a moments consideration, he scooted closer, stopping within arms reach of him.

"Are you alright?" he asked quietly. Remus gave no reponse, but shuddered hard, and pressed himself harder into the stone wall. Sirius swallowed, and risked inching a little closer.

"Are you hurt?" he asked. Still no answer. Sirius frowned, and reached slowly toward him. 

"Remus," he said, resting a hand lightly on his back. "Are you hurt?" 

Remus flinched hard, knocking Sirius's hand off of him, and whipped around to face him, scraping his back against the cold stone wall.

"Don't touch me," he hissed, every muscle in his body straining to get as far away as possible. Sirius rocked back, hands held safely in front of him, and gazed at Remus in alarm. His pupils were pinpricks. His eyes were wide and clouded by the horrors of whatever world he was still trapped in. His face stark white, and twisted in fear. Sirius swallowed hard.

"Remus, it's alright, you're safe. You just had a bad dream," he said quietly. "Nothing happened. Everything is fine."

"Fine?" Remus hissed through his teeth. "Fine? It's not fine! I almost killed you!"

"You didn't," Sirius said gently. "You didn't kill me Remus, I'm not hurt." But Remus wasn't listening, he was shaking his head frantically.

"Changed in front of a human," he was muttering. "I changed in front of a human, I almost killed you, oh gods, you could have died, I could have KILLED you-" 

"You didn't change, Remus, I'm right here with you."

"-I saw it, I knew this would happen, I almost killed you, what have I done-"

"Remus, listen to me-"

"-can't change in front of humans, it's too dangerous, too dangerous for everyone-"

Sirius reached out quickly, grabbing both of Remus's hands in his own. He pulled the young man sharply so that he fell forward onto his knees, his face inches from Sirius. Sirius waved his own hands in front of his face.

"LOOK, Remus. Look at your hands. These are human hands. You didn't change. Nothing happened, it was just a bad dream. You're safe, I'm safe. We're all okay," he said insistently, shaking Remus gently. He could feel the panic mounting in himself, but forced it down as he stared hard into Remus's eyes. "Now, you're going to take a deep breath, and calm down, alright? BREATHE, Remus!"

Under his stern gaze, Sirius felt Remus become more still. He was breathing more deeply, and although there was still great terror in his eyes, the sight of his own hands seemed to draw him back slowly into reality. Sirius waited till the trembling stopped before he released his wrists. The pressure lifting finally brought Remus fully to the present, and he gave Sirius such a disconsolate look that Sirius felt his own heart drop in his chest.

"I thought it... I thought I..." Remus was saying in a very small voice. His lips were quivering. Sirius shook his head, and slowly bundled Remus into his arms, holding him tightly to his chest.

"Nothing happened. It was just a bad dream," he insisted, rocking him gently back and forth. But he felt Remus shake his head.

"Wasn't a dream," he muttered, his voice thick and slow with exhaustion. "It was a memory."

Sirius stilled, looking down at the man in his arms. His eyelids were drooping down. He couldn't blame him for that, what an ordeal he'd been through. His shoulders were still stiff and tense against Sirius's body. Sirius trailed a hand over his back, making soft, soothing noises. Under his gentle ministrations, he felt the tight muscles begin to loosen and relax. Sirius could hear a small voice, burbling softly against his chest.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he was saying over and over. Sirius shook his head.

"Don't apologize, Lupin. Just shut your eyes, go to sleep." He felt Remus nod, and then his body went slack and heavy. Sirius took up the rocking motion again, humming a tune that he could half remember from his childhood. When it was clear that Remus was fully asleep, Sirius murmured a gentle spell, and lifted him easily from the ground. He padded over to the bed, levitating Remus just in front of him, still holding tight to his hand. They reached the bed, and Sirius very carefully tucked the sheets around him before crawling up into the bed himself.

But as he sat next to the sleeping werewolf, Sirius couldn't help but shudder as his words echoed through his mind.

"Wasn't a dream. It was a memory."

And the full weight of the situation finally hit Sirius in the chest. He saw in his minds eye a hot mouth full of too many too sharp teeth, roaring above him, stretching toward his face- He had not turned. Sirius knew that he hadn't. It was just a bad dream. But Sirius knew in that moment that, turned or not, if he had not roused Remus from his sleep, he would surely be dead. 

Sirius shuddered. He looked down at his sleeping werewolf, at the damp curls and the long lashes and the scarred skin.

Not a dream.

A memory.

A memory of what was to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little taste of the transformation, a much belated chapter, and a very apologetic author.
> 
> Here's to smaller gaps between chapters in future!
> 
> I hope you liked it!

**Author's Note:**

> Well! So! This is based 100% on TT Bret (asktheboywholived.tumblr.com)'s fic synopsis for an ancient Rome/gladiator style WolfStar AU, which was incredible, and completely rerouted my plans for the morning. Their post can be found here:
> 
> http://asktheboywholived.tumblr.com/post/160361366017/wolfstar-au-synopsis-the-empiremore
> 
> And you can find me at:  
> gentlect.tumblr.com
> 
> I hope you liked it!


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